We shrunk our kitchen table the other night. With all the leaves in, it can seat eight to ten people. We took out three leaves and made it comfortable, yet snuggly, fit six of us, so we could all reach the board when we play family games.
Allen is on-call this weekend, so he had breakfast at the small table – his computer took up half the table, and two kids eating while watching cartoons took up the other half. At first I was a bit frustrated to not have a place to sit and eat, but then I took it as an invitation to sit on the back porch --- in the quiet (or at least where I can’t hear superhero cartoons).
I sipped my coffee while I read a book. The morning was calm and overcast. Just a slight breeze every so often – enough to make the chimes almost whisper at me. I sat there for an hour, listening to the birds. The mama mockingbird sat on the fence making angry kissy noises at me for awhile. She let me get really close to her fledgling last night to take a picture, though, so I wasn’t sure why she was upset with me. Then I remembered Shadow was at my feet. When I put him inside, she quit squawking at me, and actually came pretty close to grab a cricket from the yard. She seemed to communicate with her tail -- raising it, lowering it, turning around to look behind her, turning back to me to whistle. Eventually, she flew away to either check on her family or catch more bugs, but she still checked in a few more times before I left. Meanwhile, Mama Bluebird was keeping watch over her house. I assumed she knew me by now, since she didn’t hesitate to swoop in to feed her trio a little breakfast. The light pink crepe myrtle blooms swayed slightly in front of her home.
While I sat, I thought about writing a list of all the little sounds I was thankful for, but there were other senses that were happy, too. The mid-July temperature was more than perfect in the lower 70s. The wind tickled the hairs on my arm as it seemed to say “Good Morning” to me. A juvenile cardinal landed on the fence – its neon red splotches on its wings looked out of place on the olivey plumage – but it proudly sang a song that sounded a little bit like a cardinal, but more joyful. I wondered if the mama cardinal was nearby with a look on her face, like I sometimes have when my kids sing – thinking to herself “how cute!” and “how off key!” at the same time.
In the trees around me, I heard many birds, though I only saw a few this morning. I heard crickets and cicadas singing their mid-summer tunes, and again, the mockingbird came to check on me. The clouds rolled and I could see a bit of blue peeking through. I knew the day will be warmer soon, but I wished I could just freeze these few minutes to enjoy longer. The breeze brought me a fresh scent from the basil plant on the table. My cooling coffee smelled rich – I made it a bit too strong this morning, but that just made my porch-time feel more like a vacation.
My to-do list for the day is long – errands to run, meals to make, closets to reorganize, weeds to pull, books to read, lessons to study – but I just wanted to sit… and listen…and watch…and feel…and smell… all the beauty that surrounded me on the dusty porch. My shoulders relaxed. My breathing slowed. I felt like God was with me for breakfast. All the beauty was his way of saying, “Good morning. I love you!” And Mama Mockingbird returned for another chirp in my direction. She flew over the red and yellow garden blooms to the leafy clump in the tree where I suspect she has a nest. The cicadas turned up the volume. Cardinals in the distance filled the neighborhood with song. I’ve stretched my quiet time another half hour as I’ve written this, but my children are calling. I hope in all the busy-ness of today, I think to set my alarm for tomorrow so that I can come out and enjoy it all again.
No comments:
Post a Comment