When Pacific Coast Irises appear, amidst the burned out orchid pots and debris of winter, I’m surprised.
When it stays daylight until I run errands to the bank and store after a long day at school, I’m surprised.
When Mickey, my black and white “cow kitty,” sits on the front porch rail behind the white wisteria blooming, I’m surprised.
When I do Pilates for two days in a row instead of staying in late meetings, I’m surprised.
When the flu cold cough subsides and I enjoy the fragrance of the mock orange bush out front, I’m surprised.
When I find that Trader Joe’s sells a dark chocolate bar that is 30% whole hazelnuts, I’m surprised. And tempted to break the frame for stronger phrases from the Thesaurus, more at the meaning of ecstatic, but I’m surprised.
When I pay my income tax, my property tax, my SF parking ticket, and my bills and I still have something to send my daughters for their birthdays, I’m surprised.
When I go out after work and put down the hardtop on the convertible to commute home and instantly feel better with breeze on my face, I’m surprised.
When I park the car in my old redwood garage and look at the overgrowth of honeysuckle and the rank sweet peas in my backyard….and the tan bungalow with red trim that was such a wreck five years ago…and I think, I live here. This is not a dream. This is my garage, my yard, my house — well, I’m surprised.