Today, still sleepy, I was out of breath by the time I reached the base of my usual hill. I stopped to eat breakfast right away in my usual spot at the top in the shade; I caught my breath, wiping peach juice on my already dirty jeans. I painted in watercolor keeping to the shady spots. Sweaty I lay on my back waiting for the paper to dry. I watched the clouds move and collide, I watched the butterflies dance, I watched the gnats swarm, and I watched the sparrows dive.
On my way down to the bike path to Vernon I stopped to paint a farm. I heard a rustling in the bushes, rather loud. I wondered if it was the white horses. I walked around the bend of trees to see a goat with large horns staring at me. He looked at me annoyed and then went back to munching on every bush in site.
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