Closest Hippie

After a bumper car ride through the city I arrived in paradise.  Dusk was falling and the hippies were gardening.  I sat with "Little Deer", Abester, Zana blowing  bubbles as kites gently yet with unabashed merriment waved above me.  Sitting nearby was a young shaggy hippie wearing striped (vertically) pants and a striped (horizontally) shirt.  He was playing a right handed guitar upside down with his left hand softly crooning in Spanish about hearts and love and light.  It was blessed as he smiled benignly at the kids with an aloofness that did not require an audience making him almost live background music.  The best play list in the world softly being strummed live. 

Also nearby was the most beautiful senorita lady painting some stone seat transforming the dusty resting place into a hacienda bench under the cool of some glorious tree.  She seemed to transport some old world Inca regality to the garden.

A blonde butterfly flitted from plant to plant and a winsome tall gnome watered plants.  It was rather other worldly.  I sat in my very pink, very gaudy kameez and wished I could live on a communal (where clothing is required of course) and be a full blown hippie.  But that is not what I was called to.

And of course I knew that in the lovely airy house behind where I sat on the lovely grass  there were difficulties unnumbered.  Looking over the fence at someone else's grass is always dangerous so I didn't and just sat and enjoyed and laughed gently inside at the pure wonder of this very real, very wonderful afternoon.