I Don’t Know Why
The joy of simple things and people
I sense movement outside my window and turn my head. A tiny lizard is doing pushups in the midday sun! I still don’t know why they do that. It’s fun that in Mexican Spanish they call push-ups “lagartijas,” in other words… lizards.
On my early morning walks around a nearby lake, especially if the sun is bright, five or six turtles — of different sizes — crowd onto a tree trunk projecting out of the water, sometimes half-covering one another. I love the way they stretch their necks towards the sun. I don’t know why they do that, but they seem quite happy.
My smallest rosebush has the most gigantic yellow blossoms. One opens, dazzles admirers for a few short days, and then another bud opens its glorious contents. A rosebush in our churchyard has smaller blooms, but dozens at a time crowd into a small space. Amazing! Each is beautiful in its own way, and I don’t know why.
A tabby kitty sits outside a take-out restaurant whose metal curtain is still closed, early. It doesn’t flinch when I reach to pet it. Then I spot a tiny dead mouse inches away. I remember how cats love to take such “gifts” to their human friends…
