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Gratitude = vitality.

It's easy to complain, but it's a cheap use of language. I don't do enough gratitude posts, so here's one to add to the number.

I am sitting on a porch under an avocado tree that might be older than my last name. The shade is gentle and constant. I'm used to shade being a rare and fleeting respite from the feeling of being an ant in the beam of some future serial killer's magnifying glass.

I hear the highway, but tires on concrete are more of a low hiss than the churn of tires on split asphalt and potholes. With the exception of the overcompensating bros revving their Hot Wheels, it has the quality of a brook. Quiet here is different too. It's punctuated by distant booms, little honks, occasional buzzing of beetle wings, and a steady yet random fall of avocado leaves. It's quite musical in its way.

The neighbors are making no contribution to the soundscape at the moment. The breeze barely shakes the vines and broad leaves around the porch but it keeps me cool. Cats come and go. The sirens I just heard aren't for me.

I spent hours on the beach yesterday and expect to repeat that today. The shore is about an hour away and everything else is walking distance. I've had great food and good company. I've been reminded that there are ways to live apart from habit and that life expands to meet you when you take a chance.

Do you think the last person here won their game?