Coffee

Hypernicum berries in the flowers set the tone for a great afternoon at Phoenix.

Then I planted myself on some excellent graffiti.  And poured espresso into my belly and my heart into a friend and drank in the beauty of connection to a shining, pulsing heart and the beauty of a snowstorm.

Then I had some time to process and write and ask and receive.  I got answers to some of my heart's questions.  I found the bathroom.  I heard the sound of single flakes of snow falling.  I heard other sounds.  There were milky faces in windows and cheeks flushed with cold.  There were overheard conversations with Texas drivers and Neil Young (shudder, but comforting for the associations) and reggae, and funk and static when the records ran out.  

I like when the fullness of an afternoon like that feels mellow and healing.

High energy is good, but the calm is so soothing.