This drawing reminds me of something that happened a few days ago. While I was watering the flowers in one of our wine barrels, two tiger swallowtails fluttered past me from behind, just above my left shoulder. I fluttered after them. Up over the fig tree we went, past the birch, and into the neighbor’s yard. We were halfway down the street when I remembered I couldn’t fly. I turned back for home. But I took a different route, on a nice slow train called the Zen Starlight. When I finally arrived, I found the hose still in my hand. The flowers haven’t needed water since.
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