Pondering in the garden

Late at night, the kids reading or asleep. I ponder out into the garden, walking the length of the path to the recluse that I have half built for myself at the end of the garden. The redwood deck under my feet and the two palm trees bustling in the soft wind of the mild peninsula evening. It is a familiar feeling of quiet and restfulness. The moon is low and bright in its fullness. I consider the solitary nature of my being, of my being alone the one to travel into the next life and how my achievements and lessons learned in this life will come to bear in the next. It is a familiar conundrum.