It has been a lovely summer and there are certainly things I will want to remember through this blog. So even though, it may not be the way to do it, I'll do what I usually do and pre-date a few things as I find the photos, notes and words. It is probably not proper blog etiquette. Oh, well.
But I don't want to forget Lucy and her painted hubcaps, cousin Sheryl and her big towel, another trip to Orlando by Greyhound bus, the experimenting which I did with Linda and Martha, Lucy as Cinderella and Belle with her dolls . . . Yes, there were days . . .
I think I'll just start here for now.
The day began quietly out in the country, the rumble of the distant Interstate traffic mimicking the ebb and flow of surf. The birds had not begun their cheerful/grumpy/joyful calling and the sun was not up. I lay in the old bed, only partly awake. As morning's first light pushed up from behind the trees, the sounds began with the thump of a squirrel landing from a tall pine onto the tin roof. It was followed by another and their little feet scratched their path across the peak. Suddenly, there was a harsh scream and some commotion as the birds called out "danger! danger!" and I knew that the big hawk was also awake . . . and catching breakfast.
The morning breeze flitted through the open window, giving no hint that today would be very hot and I prepared to watch the sun come up. As the rays touched the leaves with long ribbons of light, first one and then another, I sat on the porch listening to the morning conversations of the birds.
And then, from inside, I heard the quiet babbling of baby songs as Lucy and Belle began to wake.
Is there a better way to start?
BushStrokes (c) AAB