With temperatures in the high 70’s last night when I got home from a day playing in the garden at The Flower Tree, I ventured out to the side yard and washed off the Adirondack chairs, filled the fountain and the birdfeeders and swept off the outdoor rug that sits inside the gazebo. Wind chimes were straightened and the mosaic table I made a few years ago was scrubbed off in anticipation of my morning cup of java.
This morning marks my first early morning venture out to the side yard gazebo. With coffee cup in hand, and papers tucked under my arm, I settled into my favorite chair. It is still a little cool out this morning, but with a long sleeved shirt and comfortable pants on, it feels just right. I am a ritual person, and this way to start my morning has been missing for the last few cold months. In the fall, I stretch it as long as possible, until the fountain water is freezing over at night, and the long sleeves turn into a jacket. During the winter, I settle into a comfortable warm chair inside the front room, Harley, our little dog, tucked into the side of the chair with me. However, all winter long I gaze outside at the side yard and long for the days that will take me back out to my favorite morning spot. This morning, while the coffee in my cup was still steaming, and before the papers were even opened, I sat and listened to the sounds of the early spring garden. The birds are back in force already – robins bobbing around in the front yard in search of worms, the petite yellow finches have found their bright yellow sox filled with seed, and the doves are everywhere. Even in the hanging planter on the front porch. I will not be planting this one anytime soon. I want to move it to a protected spot in a tree, but I am not sure she will return to it when I do.
Life in the morning garden, at least in my little corner of the world, is the most peaceful place I know. Even with the occasional car passing by, all I really hear is the voice of nature. Filling my side yard with its wonder and peace. I have missed my little morning place in the world. I hope you have one in your world also. Till later, Susan