I left work at 6:30 tonight, stepping outdoors under a sky that had gone suddenly storm-cloud blue. The light wind blew cottonwood seeds everywhere, like so much cotton candy snow floating around me, as if I were in a dream. I drove past fields of what we call sunflowers, though I think that people who know may call them something else, like coreopsis. On the way to the Pakistani place for dinner, my wife pointed out a rainbow in the eastern sky. It pointed upward, as if it had a purpose, but we gave it all the purpose that we needed from it. Red and white and pink crape myrtle trees and shrubs bloom everywhere. The sound of small bullfrogs made a tenor sax cacophony around the small park pond tonight. The moon was nearly full. Three children stopped and greeted us as we strolled by, enchanted by the chance to be friendly while watchful parents smiled. Their parents then said "how're y'all dewin?", to which I instinctively replied "Fiiiine, jest fiiine, how 'bout y'all?". I get so tired of saying what I think sometimes. Sometimes I want to stare at the moon, and hunt for the planet Venus shining bright nearby. That person in me who can savor the simple pleasure of living--that's a man I like. But I only hear from him when I am very quiet. He can only come for transitory moments--I am not a silent man. But when he visits, I greet him within me, and revel in his presence.