Watching the sun set in the evening was an enthralling experience. I lay flat on my back on the rooftop watching the eagles go 'kreeee scrrreeeeeee' as they circled in great-arcs-small-arcs, at once proud, carefree and ever vigilant of the slightest movement in the ground below. The wind-breeze blew so slightly that you could miss it if you did not yearn for the coolness it would bring to your steaming skin on a hot, muggy April day as it drew to a quiet close. Quiet it was - except for the dance of colors that played across the evening sky. Loud and screaming, yet glorious and dignified. The orange-pink sky turned pink-gray turned gray-silver turned silver-blue turned blue-black turned black-velvet and the sun was gone and the smoky moon came up. An airplane flew noisily across this luminous half-disc and stars streaked and disappeared into the blackness of the night. Black-green coconut fronds waved in chorus to the breeze. And the eagles continued to glide quietly, black ghosts of the night.

I lay, flat on my back on a hot April night, letting this immense, blazing beauty seep into my pores, and marveled that the "I" that I am - this unkind, impure, imperfect, unfinished, blemished creature that I am, is a part of all this beauty.