Content
Yesterday evening in my pool, as I floated on my back, I was looking up into the clear blue Texas sky. The only things to see were a waxing gibbous moon, and a solitary buzzard floating on a thermal, wings extended. The big bird traced slow, lazy circles and I thought to myself, that has to feel good. And why shouldn’t a buzzard feel good? I’ve watched birds take baths in my sprinklers and it seems certain they enjoy it. So, why wouldn’t a buzzard feel good floating up high, being up.
Hard question to answer. What does a buzzard feel, and why would I care. It’s not a pretty bird for sure, but they’re all about nature’s work even though it’s seemingly nasty business. But that’s just the human perspective. We mostly admire songbirds or birds of prey. But face it, there are people who make money off other people’s failures and that has to be the human equivalent of a buzzard. So, I’m going to let the buzzard feel good and try not to think about what I’ve seen it eating for dinner.
All I know is that I felt good floating in that pool, looking up at the sky, watching that bird, and I think that’s called contentment, which is sometimes hard to come by. But it came yesterday, and I was glad of it. My morning golf game was fun, my mower went back together well, and I had a lovely dinner with a dear friend. Today, I’m off to Houston to hear music tonight and spend time with family tomorrow. Two more good days, which is how you take them. One or two days at a time.