A full moon sailed the skies last night, got caught in a tree in my backyard long enough for me to notice the silhouette of bud break on the branches. New leaves, not yet unfurled, waiting, ready.
The sun rose a spectacular, orange fiery ball on the horizon, it too caught in the trees and the atmosphere, long enough for mere mortals to view its extraordinary brilliance.
And set firm and straight this morning, with a jaunty wave, the mailbox saluted Helios.
Last evening, while we attended baseball practice, the Neighbor called on my cell. Apparently the husband of the Very Apologetic Driver was surveying the scene. Throughout the evening, the Neighbor informed me, a couple of trucks, several children, three husbands, two wives and maybe a dog or two occupied my drive, intent on repair.
Meantime, baseball practice ended and the local elementary school Art Fair beckoned. A seemingly enjoyable stint turned disturbed when it became apparent the Ex-in-process was following us.
Returning to the Homeworld afterward, upset children in tow, it was a relief to see a stalwart mailbox, contained and containing, ready and willing come what may.
One evening – skills polished, brilliant young creativity on display, dark unconsciousness spread as fog covering, disintegrating connection – while simultaneously, community, repair, restoration of solid groundedness.
Life is neural, organic, such activity at different levels, different phases, created, orchestrated in a three-hour period of time. Like the human brain, a single factor can have cascading effects, but so too discreet networks function, repair, rebuild. Interconnectedness is not beyond capture – in mind, community or universe.
There it stands, waiting, ready. Like the moon it has potential, like the sun it was worth waiting for. There is outgoing mail today.
Shouldn't...but Do 
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