past when I usually spy the sun, still well before she dips below the actual horizon, not just mine, like a star guiding a wayward journey on a moonless night, there I was in the perfect position, by luck, by providence, by circumstance, a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper maybe coriander, all of these, there I stand, staring into the spiral center of a leaf field collage, nearly as dense as the night sky on the round, simply replace black with dark green shadows, but a crack, no a cranny, a nook, a little big hole of just enough, for the sun to shine through, somewhat lens flare diffused, this was not the swelling noon globe I am used to, sometimes I will catch glimpses of this theme in a window, a peek, a wink, but maybe the trees were swaying then, never quite this still, this perfect a portal, a north star buried in a mass of green leaves arranged so perfectly like a tight bouquet with a brilliant diamond in the center, little moments like these provide blocks to build inner strength, reinforce the walls of the good of the world, that  hope, the individuality, I had been starring there standing for a while now, completely lost out of my body swept out into the ocean of the anomaly, and as fast as such times are, the circumstance for my chance was gone, but I was there, I was there for the experience of the moment, I was there.