Receptivity Versus Aggression

The perfumes of June on this hillside are staggering, arresting, compelling. Rose and honey are layered in the air and there’s a base note of something very spicy that keeps the mix from cloying. It’s surround-smell. It’s a presence I anticipate and revel in every year. Luca Turin himself could not have created a better perfume than this.

Last night the heat wave broke with a thunder storm. It blew out the electricity so Ray and I dragged the two new 0-gravity lawn chairs onto the covered porch and let our environment embrace us. It was his idea. We sipped champagne, made peace over our last political debate and tried to guess at the content of the air. It was a theatre of the sensual. Lightning illuminated cloud formations. Thunder kept us alert. The temperature dropped.

When hail started jumping in the lawn, he found a nice one and placed it in my hand. Squashed and round it looked like beach glass, flattened and smoothed by the forces through which it had traveled to reach us; it looked like we both feel when we try to talk politics. I ate it. It tasted clean and good.

Adjusting to the lack of light and electricity we heated lasagna on the top of the gas stove and watched The Bucket List on my new laptop. After he left I went back out to the porch wrapped in my old quilt and followed the light show of the receding storm.

From the darkness a raccoon emerged to look for edibles the cats might have left behind. She did not recognize my blanketed shape in the recliner as human and so circled me, pausing six inches from my wrapped feet to check out this dark mountain of me she had not noticed before on her patrols.

My respect for her wildness warred with my pleasure at getting such a very close look. Again I was happy I’ve resisted the urge to get a dog. I was glad that my very dear, very conservative, friend was not there with his belief that all raccoons have rabies and should be shot on sight. This one had babies, not rabies.

The best front porch sitting requires receptivity hard to achieve with a protector beside you. Yet this same protector created our entire evening with his idea of storm watching, his generosity with hail. I swallow the paradox. It tastes clean and good.