Accidents Happen

A friend composed a “snapshot inventory” of his dining room table. He enumerated the various items—a veritable catalog of wonders it was—then challenged his friends to have a look at their own dining room tables and compose their own lists. I took a quick look at ours, saw all the dog treats, chew-toys, and grooming tools—and felt uninspired. So I took the collies for a walk and came back with the following inventory, some of which was obtained on the walk, some of which from elsewhere.

Just for a while the asters in the yard.
Just for a while the fresh-mown stillness of the meadow.
Just for a while the morning sun lighting up the utility lines.
Just for a while the tumbling stone walls bounding what’s now done.
Just for a while the scent of old books and bygone mice.
Just for a while the fragrance of coastal scrub (how’d that get here?)
Just for a while the mystery of wine in the glass.
Just for a while the sense that it all might mean something.
Just for a while the faith that a case could be made.