Constitutional

 A serene, cloudless, cerulean sky greets me as I close the front screen door. The amazing blue reminds me, not only of an Arizona sky, but also of Amelia's eyes as I check to see if my hips, shoulders, and ears are aligned and begin my doctor-ordered walk.

March 4th, 2010
A tiny, pale yellow butterfly friend accompanies me on my walk. She flutters along, slowly, dipping down--here and there--to visit a flower or a piece of grass or to check her look in the glass of a passing window.

The brittle brown leaves skitter along in front of me on the sidewalk--stopping and starting in an unknown pattern--encouraged by a gentle, patient, and persistent wind.

My butterfly friend disappears over the top of a dark grey slated roof and--when I am sure she is gone for good--she reappears in front of me and heads back the way we came.

I smile and turn slowly as she passes by me--close enough to touch if I were inclined to do so--and watch as she flutters--unsure--over the property line between our house and the next, and alights on our side to rest a bit and make sure I get in the house for my own rest.

Goodbye Arizona Sky and Brown Playful Leaves and Butterfly Friend, my fellow creations of God. Rehab is easier for me when you join me on these daily constitutionals.