I’m at my desk, looking out on to the garden as I wait for the laptop to start. It’s just after sunrise. I watch the lizard outside emerge from its resting place in the rock wall, can’t help but go out and say hello to it. Its eyes blink. I keep back from it, not wanting to trespass on its space, return to my desk. When I look out again, the lizard’s moved to its sunning spot as sunlight stretches across our garden. Later I will need to close the blinds to keep the house and my office cool.
Next time I look out the lizard’s gone, moved off amongst the plants and leaves of pumpkins spreading to the left of our small garden path. No rain means we need to water more, but we’re loathe to do that willy nilly, so some parts are dry, others greener.
The presence of the lizard softens the day for me; reminds me too, just to go about at a slower pace, more relaxed, comfortable with what the day reveals no matter what. After all, life is there to be lived. All moments are partnerships of one sort or another.