29 June, 2009


I lost my head and got a rabbit. Blame it on the heat. Its fur is softer than you can imagine. It is so mellow it sits up on its hind legs and sniffs the dog's muzzle through the wire of the hutch, oblivious to my Weimaraner's thwarted primordial desire.
I know they put aquariums in medical waiting rooms because it calms people to watch them, but I can't find anything more--look out: yoga jargon just ahead--centering than watching inquisitive little Shadow. Except, perhaps, for one thing: sitting cross-legged on the grass and allowing a small black hen to climb into one's lap, fluff, settle and coo, while the other two doze close by, with heads cocked to the buzzing, fluttering insects that veil the lavender.

The news carries on, as I see from the paper, and the world spins on its axis, but here things are decelerating. Call it summer vacation torpor.

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