Early this morning, I walked over to the park on the street where I live, Lucille-less. I just wanted to be in the moment, breathing in the fresh morning air unencumbered by my puppy, who is charming and funny but needs constant supervision since Lucille feels it is her personal mission to eradicate every single one of those pesky squirrels that live just to torment her.
I am terrified of large dogs, so I rarely go to this particular park even though it is literally across the street from my home, because this zaftig neurotic lesbian Jewess does not think it is at all relaxing to be jumped on by large loping roaming free dogs despite their owner’s protestations that Rover is super friendly.
However, on this particularly beautiful spring morning I thought it might be worth the risk, praying to God (which is after all, Dog spelled backwards) that my doggie neighbours would still be fast asleep in their doggie beds.
So off I went, down the steep step of stairs that brought me directly into the park and then, boom! sun glorious sun and wide open space and no one there but me and I was so happy and so grateful to be alive and whole, arriving Here
to watch the sun rise on this glorious day.
Just then the song ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell came on my IPod and I began to dance with abandon, singing gloriously off-key, opening my heart once again to the magic of our world.