In the Garry Oak courtyard, I lean against the patio door and try to melt back into the glass, to become invisible; just seeing and hearing, an attention with no history. Wind-dispersed seeds flurry, fantastic specks revealing instability in the bright air; they move in crazy curling patterns but with an overall arc of direction. Golden-crowned Sparrows forage in fallen leaves which at times lift up around them in swirling gusts of wind.

If I could be just this, this attention, I could exist here pleasurably, forever. Through sun and rain, bright days and dreary too, sparrows scratching in the sun and gloom. All beautiful to the unjudging eyes and ears.

Hummingbirds at the feeder, all this magic, right here, now, and still I desire to desire. To want to see new things, to change, to create. Should I break this last desire? Maybe I’d vanish into the glass here, into the now, forever. And all the things around would open to me in a new vision, estatic wonder at the hummingbird, the spots on the woodpecker, the fountain of Iris leaves, browning at the tips, seed pods overflowing.