The rainbird sprinkler is making its unique sound outside the front door. There is no better proof of warm weather than the sound of a rainbird. It's the soundtrack of summer. The shadows are growing long this late afternoon. And I? I am rich. In the green  stuff that really matters anyway. The first picking of peas. The months of hard labor that brought me to this place, fade into the background. Dudes. I have food to eat from my own plot of earth.     I am content. And I'm making a note of it.