Sometimes when I look at the the clownishly colorful borders I’ve created instead of perking up i get disheartened. It seems so much like graffiti; a great scribble; notes. I feel unhinged by h these feelings. I long for a mysterium to emerge from what I do, not an entertainment. And then a hummingbird flies into sight, skittering across the tops of the orange peruvian lily ( Alstromeria aurantiaca ), zipping and sipping. He was ernest and playful. Happy and intent. He showed n me mystery is not always hidden, gloomy, dark. He showed me mystery can flash, like his iridescent ruby throat. He showed me that rapidity as well as stillness expresses mystery. He showed me like the purloined letter, that sometimes what is most secret, most hidden, most mysterious, is that which is obvious.
And I realized I am obviously oblivious to many mysteries.