It feels like a day at the beach. The breeze so mild and tender, the sun swathed in thin cloud.

There is the sensual perfume of agarita in bloom. Wrens complaining. I heard a mockingbird sing two different ringtones. There have been cardinals everywhere. I saw one pair passing seeds beak to beak. I saw a roadrunner hopping on the dry earth. Then I saw it stabbing violently with its beak into the fountain-like wild grasses. It caught a snake, writhing furiously to escape. The barn swallows are back, talking back and forth, clearly elated to find last year’s nest undisturbed.

I had so many questions to ask, and now they have dissipated.

The agarita, the birds, the snake, the sun, the breeze--answers without questions.