African music and a fresh cup of steaming green tea. A full belly and a quiet, but mild, overcast afternoon. The vernal equinox is a week away. Here and now, I am relaxed, taking in this portrait of contentment.
I was out and about earlier in the day, when the sky was the color of turquoise and the sun was shinning brightly. Whilst I was out, I met a man who was running for the board of the township's loose government. I shook his hand and signed his petition. I'm not a huge fan of government of any sort, but, I can deal with Morocco's, for it is minimal. Home-rule with no standing law enforcement. The Lord Mayor once invited Sabina and I, whilst out on a walk on a warm summer night, over to smoke a bowl.
In other parts of the world, that might lead to political scandal. Here, it's just how it is. Part of life in a small mountain township. We accept such things with a shrug.
The day before, Milarepa and I clambered about the Bull's Head. I did some scrabbling. Part of me wonders if the next time I go to the local's jam, the bakery, tearoom, or perhaps even the cantina, if someone's going to remark about seeing me scrambling up the rockfaces with my dog trying desperately to follow after me. I was half looking for the other saints that were placed in various places throughout the Bull's Head. I've found one. Sometime, hopefully before next winter, I'd like to find those others. Even if I don't, I know I'll enjoy myself.
With just a slight inclination of my head and shift of my gaze, I catch a glimpse of my personal Kilimanjaro. The only mountain I really, really want to summit. Some cats get their rocks off by climbing mountains, but not me. I like my walkabouts and scrabbling. That's my thing. Something that works for me.
Looking out at my personal Kilimanjaro is one of the many reminders of why I chose to live here. It's quite something to see a twelve-thousand foot peak when looking out the window. A little bit of magic and one of the many faces of the Divine. Its own portrait of contentment.
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