The rain is falling so lightly, in such a fine mist, that it looks like snow. A milky curtain hangs across the hillside, muting the many shades of green in the trees to a dark grey. The sparrow's song is carried across the air as if riding on a satin pillow: muffled, disembodied.
My front porch is showing neglect. It enjoyed the status of haven, escape, cathedral even just a few short weeks ago. Now, the acolytes are left to do the necessary housekeeping while the priestess is busy on a mission.
I miss spending large parts of my day here. I miss hearing the victory cry of the peacocks when their preening and strutting have won them the best of the ladies. I miss this rosy-golden light about the front yard when the fog begins to burn off and the sun peeks through. I miss hearing the house wake up behind me, slowly.
Alas, my time here is almost at an end. Second cup of coffee, no time for a quick sweep, no time to water the fuschia, but maybe time to tuck a finger in the pot, add watering to the children's list of chores.
Change. Change. The unexpected! Two things I have prized in the past as the makings of an interesting life, though I thought, somehow, that I could mark certain areas off-limits. The joke is on me.
Till later....
My front porch is showing neglect. It enjoyed the status of haven, escape, cathedral even just a few short weeks ago. Now, the acolytes are left to do the necessary housekeeping while the priestess is busy on a mission.
I miss spending large parts of my day here. I miss hearing the victory cry of the peacocks when their preening and strutting have won them the best of the ladies. I miss this rosy-golden light about the front yard when the fog begins to burn off and the sun peeks through. I miss hearing the house wake up behind me, slowly.
Alas, my time here is almost at an end. Second cup of coffee, no time for a quick sweep, no time to water the fuschia, but maybe time to tuck a finger in the pot, add watering to the children's list of chores.
Change. Change. The unexpected! Two things I have prized in the past as the makings of an interesting life, though I thought, somehow, that I could mark certain areas off-limits. The joke is on me.
Till later....
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