what?

it's passover.  it's holy week. 
i love the interlocking of the jewish and christian calendars.  both celebrating the intervention of God in our world.  both celebrating redemption, freedom from oppression, sacrifice, miracle. 

i close my eyes.
it's 10 degrees warmer.  the birds sound different, the darkness comes predictably at the equator, it's darker because there is less light noise in the town.  the mosquitoes are out.  the sky hazy- you can see the remaining sunlight if you look straight up- but in the shade it's growing dark. 

i open my eyes.
there are two robins on my mailbox.  someone walks by smoking. the 'for sale' sign in my yard is just a white post-one dimensional from my straight on view on the porch.  the street lights are one.  i can smell the smoke from his cigarette and people down the street are singing in english.  we have an offer on the house.  our mattresses are on the ocean.    i haven't gotten the mail yet.  there are two cars parked in our driveway.  it is paved.

i close my eyes. 
my friends have moved- they now smell the sweetness of the tall california summer grass and the licorice scent of the wild fennel and in the distance they can see the ocean.  they will feel sand between their toes, even if it's cold, it's still sand.  a small part of me is jealous. they inhabit where i left my heart.  their house costing 10 of my african years.  we are so far away now.

i open my eyes.
dogs are being walked.  people are running in their marathon tee-shirts in the left over light.  it is still and familiar.  my kids are reading books with their dad after dinner, after swimming at the pool with their friends, after school.  the leaves are not green now, just silhouettes wiggling.   i can find west by the shade of the blue and its' grip on the last of the light.

i close my eyes.
far away.  in the heart of where i'm meant to be.  the kettle will whistle and i'll have some tea with milk and maybe a biscuit.  the kids will be in there beds, with their nets, and the sounds of that night will become familiar.  the stars will be so bright with out street lights and city lights and the sky will be that deep known blue and the moon- it will be the same- just visible before it is for many people who i love.

it all goes so quickly- where ever we chose to lay our sleepy heads- and spend our sunny days.  and the meaning is the same whether scented with fennel or eucalyptus or burning leaves or petrol.  and we look for that intervention of God in our worlds, in our lives, to understand what we do, and why.  and under that blue sky and the laced outlined trees, under that same moon, we feel our smallness- and yet our miracle.