This morning feels full today, in contrast to the many mostly still and almost silent ones. A steady breeze stirs the air, sweet and cool and heavy with moisture from yesterday’s mid afternoon thundershower. Prayer flags strung between fence posts, then sodden, now flutter. For a few minutes I hear birds, sparrows and chickadees chirping, crows and magpies’ hoarse and scratching, and then notice my favourite robin song is missing. Errant males must have finally found their mates.
This morning feels full today, with eager anticipation. Travel plans, vacation to-dos, home care projects, restaurant and cafes to sample and savour, friends to entertain, hopefully “al fresco” in gardens now flourishing from early spring warmth and summer rain, now flush with fragrant and heady blooms. Two whole summer months of possibility and promise.
This morning feels full today, outside and in. I finally make sense of the malaise and migraines that have weighed heavy since the first of June. Like that first peek of sunshine, the anniversary of my own leave-taking four years ago. Then I thought I knew my place. Now feeling the precarious straddling on another threshold. Then and now. Certain and uncertain. A new place, what and where?
This morning feels full today, though somewhat lighter, too.
Thank you, Sharon.