The drone of a lawn mower on a summer morning
When I’m just beginning to wake. The happy chirp of a hummingbird. The meadow lark’s song. The length of the cat stretched across the bed. How can he be that long? The rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The spicy-sweet smell of sweet peas. The earthy smell of newly harvested lettuce The peppery smell of ripe tomatoes. The citrusy smell of fresh basil. The picnic basket is packed. The tangy smell of the ocean. The constant roar of the waves. The gritty feel of sand between my toes. The dance and call of sea gulls before they try to steal my lunch. The woodsy smell of a newly lit grill. The sizzling sound of meat being cooked. The hunger pangs that come from nowhere. I didn’t know I was hungry until I smelled the cooking meat. Wet towels. Sandy children. Sunburned cheeks. The warm linty scent of clothes in the dryer. Boneless babies. That’s what my husband calls them. Children who have been having fun all day. And are done. The small flying insect that drowned in the glass of wine I poured in anticipation Of sitting in the garden And watching the sun go down. The waves of fog spilling over the coastal hills. The breeze cools the air. Everybody is hungry again. There’s pie. Night is falling. The crows fly to their nests. The stars start to twinkle. I am happy to be home. Comments are closed.
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