• Rebecca Lerner

I have a pulse in my whole body so I know I'm alive

The orange flowers in my backyard open up in the morning and lounge luxuriously in the afternoon sun, listen for secrets during drinks and go sleep at a reasonable hour. The daylilies fervently chase the sun, will stand strong against 97% humidity and close up the second it leaves. The transformation is astonishing and I resolve to sit and watch to see if I can see the seconds they move but my attention span these days is even shorter than theirs.

I look at the daylilies to learn about purpose, to see someone doing exactly what they were meant to do. Purpose follows me as I walk the same route over and over and over, never getting close enough to touch.

I love the magnolia trees for their sweetness and the way their leaves crunch. I love the red berries that come off a particular tree every year in June — when I was small I wanted to eat one but had been warned of poisonous fruit, so a neighbor girl ate one first and I monitored her for consequences. I love the houses that let their grass grow long.

I love when people dismiss astrology without thinking. I love that humans have the audacity to think that the planets could move the tides and change the orbit of the sun, but have no effect on us.


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