A rainy morning. I tried sleeping in, but couldn’t. So here I am, a bit late to the porch, but enjoying the dampness wrapped around, the stillness, the glitter of raindrops on the leaves, where the pole light shines on them through the pecan tree. It’s still warm- 74*, but didn’t turn on the fan. Listening to the sounds of crickets in rhythm–like the running engine of one of those tiny cars–a few twittering birds, and roosters crowing far off to the north and south. And glad those roosters are far off. Oh, and there are the ponds, the pumps making the water fall and bubble. I’m so use to that sound I hardly notice it. Sort of like every good thing in my life.
Are the cicadas gone? Pretty certain the sound is crickets, and that not too loud.
The chair beside me is ready for someone. I think of Jim sitting there, but really, he never much liked these chairs. Yesterday I greatly enjoyed a visit from a friend, who sat there and we chatted up a storm, and she walked around the yard with me and helped me pull vines and weeds. I left the cushions down last night, being generous to the cats. I’ve put towels on them, but it seems the cats prefer elsewhere.
I just looked up. Day is here. I can see clearly into the courtyard now. And beyond the pecan tree and across the pasture the western horizon clears. Life is like that–things are dim one minute, but the next light dawns and we can see. We can count on that, and need to remember in the dim times.
Have a good day, y’all!