I like to imagine my neighborhood,
without all the buildings…
no humming A/C units,
no roaring engines, no concrete,
no planes passing overhead…

Just the trees,
the cacti, the soil,
hard and sandy, baking under the sun.
When I look around
I see lots of shady spots
offered by old, friendly tees,
and there’s a river, not far –
you can tell by the way,
as you look to the north,
the trees grow taller,
closer together.

The trees, the cacti,
offer a place to rest for birds,
and the bushes that surround their trunks,
provide cover for many critters.
The bees feast on cactus and
palo verde blossoms,
while lizards scitter across rocks,
and rabbits tear through the
hard earth, seeking refuge from
the birds, and the sun.

I imagine the wind blowing, warm,
shaking the leaves of the
eucalyptus tree,
starting a symphony of
whispering branches,
birds calling for their lovers,
the far off hoot of an owl…

I imagine, after it rains,
when the heavy sheets of water pass,
the scents of steaming creosote
and freshly disturbed earth
fill every inch of air,
and the sky rings with
the chirps of crickets.

I imagine the Earth
restored.
Humanity existing in harmony,
with the trees, the soil, the rivers,
the critters, the sun,
the wind and rain…

I like to imagine my neighborhood.
It is a beautiful place to call home.