Sunday Morning

At Florence and Jere's Bell Buckle home, I awoke today a bit after 6 and wandered downstairs (quietly) for coffee and garden. For two lovely hours, I communed with creatures (crab spider, katydid nymph, hover flies, damselfly, dragonfly, bees [bumble and honey], lightning bug, leaf hopper, ants, shield bug, birds). Everyone (except the birds and me) slept still. 

Even Prince, the poodle-cum-dachshund, stayed a-bed while the sun rose, dew dried, and world made itself anew.

I have always been a morning person, and I love mornings in this garden, tended so lovingly by my friend Florence and offering views my friend Jere calls "vignettes." On the kitchen table, a large pot holder, spilling ivy, says GROWGROWGROWGROWGROW all round the rim. A metaphor for their garden and for them. We talked about birthdays and ages, changes in social groups and milieu, health and politics, challenges and opportunities for turning corners and becoming new.

Ever new.

Like the sun rising as if for the first time again, today.