A Fresh New Perspective

It is strange how your perspective changes when you move to another side of your yard, another chair, or another picnic table. I am seeing things I have missed seeing for twelve years. A tiny blue gray moth is fascinated with my multi-colored sandals. She is parading up and down on them, claiming them as her own. I move my foot a bit. She flutters briefly, lands again, claiming her territory. A black dragonfly lands on the stack of twigs I am facing. They are in my fire pit ready to be lit. I could stay here all day, looking at my house from a new angle, seeing it in a fresh, new way. If the horse flies would leave me alone. But this does not seem possible. They are needing my attention more than a three-year-old boy.