I was sitting watching the light fall less in my garden.  Evening coming on.  It’s slower, isn’t it, than the sun rising?  Lingers.

And I thought of all the shadows soon to be complete.  My neighbours in full dark night.

And out of all this, the seven billionth human being born somewhere.

But left all that, and with cold, soft red wine, just stopped thinking.  Listening and watching with my body’s senses all.

“You get like this, I suppose”, I thought, “when you’re older.”  “You look out the window.  It’s sun-going-down time.’

“The slings and arrows of outrageous government lies, wasted loveliness of my planet, the day’s silliness . . . hardly remembered, now the light’s so . . . ripe.’

“Even tho’ it’s dying.”

Had a meeting today, a lunch.

Bought for me by an architect wanting some advice about rain tanks, the law, risk, and wanting to do the right thing but not wanting to swing for it.

Man, am I so far from this.  I love risk.  Swim in it.  This . . . fear.  Of doing something new.  What is that?

Just read Steve Jobs’ sister’s eulogy on the New York Times website.  Such a prick.  Such courage, tho’.  Such love for those he loved.  Took risk between his teeth every moment of living.  Was his food.  He reminds me of Bob my chook.  Now there’s a girl who knows how to hold it together.  Talk about ‘in the moment’.  Bob, the Sultanette of Zen.  Well, pecking.

Been talking, listening to David, my neighbour. Exchanging memories of Bali, of Hindu culture and that one in particular.

Gotta say.  I love his mind.

We agree they’re impervious to western culture.  Don’t take it on except so much as they need to get by, make a sale, survive.  Resilient.  (Far more, I reckon, than our ever-more-spineless Aussie ‘culture’.)

The light’s less now, faster now.  Even on the spring growth.

That’s the evening for you.