About Nothing

The moon has lost its fullness and is rising later, but it is still bright. The jasmine is losing its blossoms, but enough of them remain to scent the night air. Thin clouds have gathered here and there, and a soft breeze stirs the leaves now and then. It's a perfect night to sit in the back yard. Raccoons will visit soon, though they won't find any cat food left out. They probably won't find any cats, either, as they have all gone off exploring or hunting. Portia is napping in the living room. I'll have the back yard to myself. The raccoons won't linger when they find the cat bowls empty. Maybe an owl will turn up later, and perhaps I'll hear a faint flutter of bat wings overhead, but I expect that I will find only serenity tonight. That's fine with me. The plants have been watered, and I'll relax on the chaise smelling the damp earth and the jasmine and listen to the distant crickets as the moon rises above the pines. It's nice to have nothing to do.