I walk out my front door this morning, overcome by the scent in the air. I detect not just one plant or flower, however a mixture. I am delighted by how delicate and mysterious the natural, spiritual world is, pure magical mystery. For a moment, I try to find one descriptive word to describe this scent. I smell the roses, imbued with their contribution. I walk in the wet grass and feel the water in the grass and in the warm air. In this warmth, this humidity, I feel the permeability of my skin and my slow moving body, as I mix in, part of the air, water, fire, and earth. How blessed I am and we are to be so held by the plants and trees, and the Earth and all of her elements. How real this is. At 80 degrees F, there is a coolness still in the air this morning. A sensory memory comes to me of a similar recent experience, in warmer air, nearly 98.6 degrees F, where I felt no distinction or division between my body and the air. As I walk around to the back of my home, I see the hibiscus blooming, and feel how through wholeness, they and the roses subtly and quietly contribute to the divine smell in the air, their unwavering commitment to sharing their gifts abundantly nourishing freedom for us all.