“As I drove home last night, the streets were mostly empty, and downtown felt wide open and welcoming.
I thought to myself, ‘What makes a town feel like home to me?’ – for where I live surely has many of these qualifications.
Then I dreamed I was in a place like Portland, and having walked into a bar/restaurant, realized that the drunk and grungy, street-hardened group hanging out there was not my kind of energy.
I left and soon found myself in a health-type grocery store checking out the discounted items of herbal samples and lotions.
I remembered that I used to like making simple leaf and flower combinations, and that I also enjoyed the feel of nourishing creams soaking into my skin with enlivening smells of subtle flower petal additions, such as earthy calendula.
When I happened to look down at the floor, I noticed that very small and polished natural stones had been accidentally dropped here and there, and began following the broken trail as I collected them.
I was often bending over at their level and thus caught the eyes of passing children – who also began collecting as we shared a secret exchange of momentary glee in our separate hunts for pretty gemlings.
A wall disappeared, revealing an open, bright-lit river bank along the store’s entrance where booths had recently been taken down from a community art show event.
As I approached one spot, I noticed that a previous crystal booth’s vendors had left a spread out swath of flat, polished stones of agate, bloodstone, and more types on the ground, and so I sat down on them, feeling their warm heat from having absorbed the sun’s rays radiating into me.
Completely drawing inward, I lifted some strands of my hair that were dangling forward and examined their colors refracting in light, above and in contrast to the sparkling stones below, as I breathed in the smell of green grass and sweet riparian foliage ambiance replenishing my vitaliry.
People passed by, but left me alone, as I basked in my own being’s return to simple innocence and wonder.”
