Beyond When Good Things Happen: Everyday Magic, Day 236

The seeds turn into plants, the order to abolish the arts commission is overturned (thank you, Kansas senate!), and the sun is shining on a 68 degree day. The light from the event this weekend still wraps around me, and the little wonder in the wind calls me toward the horizon.

From the living room windows, just beyond these plants, a herd of turkey, and behind them, a running herd of deer. The wind picks up, the sky stretched out, and it's almost time to move to the next thing. Meanwhile, good things or bad things that happen -- the way we name them -- slip away, and impermanence feels okay. "Remember this," I tell myself.