Cold bit the morning.
My bare feet touched the gritty concrete patio, I sat cross legged in a dirty, plastic lawn chair.
I smoked a bit of morning herb, and mistook the frosty air for smoke still escaping.
My eyes began to wander around my yard.
My mind began to wander from thought... to thought.
Small brown birds pecked at the grass and around trees. A red bird seemed to have an attitude as if it owned the woods... hummingbirds danced around each other.
The birds glided and darted between the pines.
Wildflowers grow in light pink and purple patches.
I began to pretend my house did not exist... neither did the electrical line... or my neighbors. I sat in a forest, before the land was ever touched.
I sat on a patch of grass, surrounded by tall trees and watched the small brown birds peck for seeds.... and made note of the red birds ego. The hummingbirds calmed down for a moment to sip the nectar of the wildflowers and twirled around each other, swiftly.
I smoked a bit more morning herb, and then pieced my reality back together.
My bare feet pressed against the concrete patio, I tapped my bowl out onto my hand.
Warmth greeted me at the door.