Sunday Morning

When spring comes and the mornings are sunny and warm enough to sit outside, Sunday mornings become a feast for the senses. I like to take my steaming coffee out to the deck and sit quietly, sipping slowly, and drinking in not only the coffee but also the sights, sounds, and smells of the morning.

The dog follows me out and runs down to the yard to take care of business, but while he’s down there, two chickadees join him on the lawn. He freezes and watches them hop around. They chirp their happy little song and peck at the ground, seemingly oblivious to the canine who thinks he’s being stealthy. The second he moves, they’re in flight. One of them lands on a deck post right next to me, chirps a hello, and takes off once again.

Two squirrels chase each other round and round a tree. They jump to the one my tree face, Fred, is on and knock off one of eyes, and tip his mouth sideways, so now I have a drunken Fred tree winking at me.

A hummingbird drinks from the feeder. This one has been here many times already and considers me from his perch between sips. At one point, he flies closer to me. I greet him, and then back he goes to his libation until a second hummingbird wants a drink too. A battle breaks out, and off they go!

I check on my tomato and pepper plants, excited to see them bearing fruit and hoping for a bountiful summer harvest. My son has planted marigolds that haven’t flowered yet, but the leaves are bushy and healthy. A neighbor recently gifted me some beautiful coleus as well, and so our little garden is flourishing.

I came out here to commune with nature and have ended up feeling like Snow White surrounded by all the woodland creatures!

Thank you, Sunday morning, for being so good to me.

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