We are sitting together on this hillside. There is no wind, the grass is cushy but not damp, there are just a few birds having a conversation. We wordlessly watch a coyote lope in and out of stands of trees below. Our bellies are content, we are neither hot nor cold, we have no cough no itch no fever no ache no worry. All is quiet wonder, the hills of west Marin beginning the poppy bloom, and our bodies are leaning into each other, utterly satisfied, held between earth and sky.