8am on a sunday morningJune 15, 2008
I am sitting here on my bed with a purring cat curled on my foot with rain pounding the windows. I have been on and off awake since around 5:30am, despite a close to midnight bedtime. For the first few hours of unsought awareness, I tossed over and over again trying to find the magical combination of covers on, feet out comfort with which to return back to sleep. But eventually the gray color of the sky and ever increasing wind caught my eye and I realized I should probably attend to my back porch herb garden. I think there is something so basic about the nature of rescue, that even when ones’ only grateful recipients are wounded chives, broad leaved basil shoots and a newly repotted clump of spearmint, the slight adrenaline rush is enough to ensure I won’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon.