The moon is in Aries today. At around five this morning, about an hour and a half before I took this picture, a strip of white light lay across the bed from my feet up to my head. Yesterday a clear wind blew from the east bringing a wall of cloud late in the afternoon, and after that a clear night for the moon.
I keep expecting grey and dull and colourless landscape but the fields, the garden, even the tomatoes that have fallen off the stems are rich with colour. This time last year a couple of medical concerns presented themselves to me, leading me to believe that my time here was soon to come to and end. All symptoms combined did not add up to a positive prognosis, but, fortunately, all symptoms were unrelated. I confess I was terrified and deeply saddened at the prospect of leaving so soon, and felt like there was still so much to do, strange, like life is one huge project that needs to be completed, for no apparent reason. I saw everyone else’s problems as gifts that kept them anchored here, on earth. Perhaps I felt I hadn’t loved enough, shared enough, used up all my life credits. What is it I am waiting for?
Where I live now is nirvana, birds eat out of my hands, finally, and bugs wait patiently for me to usher them back out of the house (Ivswat the flies). Everything captivates me, helped along by a beer on the porch at the end of the day while I watch the light fade from the garden and deny the fact that a chill is filtering into my bones, as I sit until the last possible moment.
Andrew Binks 
