It's Sunday, and while I whirled around the cottage, I realized how many times my coffee had gone cold. Once while dusting the shelves. Again while dusting the cabinets. Again while straightening the pillows on the couch. Again while putting away a basket of laundry. This happens so often, that I rarely notice.

While I wandered through the wildflowers today, I spotted a beautiful monarch butterfly. She floated ahead of me as though she already knew where she was going. I didn't. So I followed She never hurried.

This morning I stood staring at a path that refused to make sense.