The winter rains are still drenching the land of hills and streams in Northern California.
Yet, a few warming afternoons of sun have previewed a stunning display of wild flowers.
My soggy asthmatic lungs have somehow survived the damp cold, the promise of spring has often seemed wishful thinking as I hack and cough throughout the long dark nights. But this afternoon, the clouds have passed. For a few hours anyway.
I notice how my mind wants to grasp this fleeting moment. How it wants to push away any thoughts of dark, wet days and nights ahead. Yet, through many years of Zen practice, I see the futility of grasping and aversion.
So, for now, anyway, I bring a chair outdoors, sit in the mild sun with a steaming hot cup of green tea, my aged Russian Blue cat nudges me for more petting. This moment is enough.
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READ MORE FROM RICO PROVASOLI
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