No Agenda...

It’s way more than simply not minding the rain. I love it. Especially when it’s a torrential Florida downpour, as if entering a waterfall accompanied by the explosions of a 4th of July fireworks soundtrack. God’s bowling hall and all that. It provides variety and perspective. But the center of the Bell curve is pretty wonderful too. No huge extremes, but rather an exhilarating appreciation for the sweet routine of life. Like this morning. I wanted a big breakfast and was tired of my own cooking. Carla was about to get off from her night shift at the hospital so I texted her to say that I would meet her in the cafeteria when it opened at 7am. That’s when her shift ends. The hospital is only 7 minutes away. We walked out to the courtyard with our bounty. I loaded up on scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese, a piece of sausage, a biscuit, all to be washed down with a cup of fresh brewed Columbian coffee. We were the only ones there, five other tables sat empty. The garden perimeter was being misted with an almost imperceptible spray that caused the plants to drip silently, as if in a rain forest. A central fountain gurgled and played quietly by itself. Morning sun had just started to breach the shading roof to cast a brilliant slat of light across the fountain spray, turning it into a rainbow of cascading jewels. Carla sat softly in her green scrubs, a cluster of ID badges and pictures clipped to her lapel. No agenda pushed us as we sat together, other than my own unspoken insistence to appreciate the hell out of the moment. So that's exactly what I did.

hmh