“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”
Around 1:30 last night (although I suppose it should be early this morning) I was roaming around the house unable to fall asleep so Gracie and I went outside for a while. It was a misty, warm night. When Gracie went down to the backyard, she triggered her sensor lights so I joined her. She roamed while I picked up and piled a few fallen branches and emptied the bird bath. One house had lights on, but it always does no matter the time of night, but the other houses were dark. I went about my yard cleaning then came back inside. It was well after 2 before I went to bed. By then I could hear the rain: the gentle mist was gone.
Today is sunny and warmer than predicted. It’s the sort of day which makes me glad I’m not working, not staring out the window and wishing I could sit in the sun. Happily, the day is mine to do with as I choose, no wishes necessary.
Nothing in today’s papers made me glad, except maybe the comics.
Two of my friends are coming to dinner. I missed their birthdays in September so tonight we’ll celebrate. Their brightly wrapped gifts are ready to be opened, and I have my shopping list for the grocery store, one of a few errands I have to do before tonight. We’re having sausage shepherd’s pie, a favorite of mine they haven’t ever had. I figure some crusty bread will perfectly complete the meal. I’m thinking a round loaf.
With the storm doors up and almost all the windows closed, the house is quiet. Gracie is sleeping on the couch beside me, and she is lightly snoring, and every now and then she sighs; they are the only sounds I can hear. The window in my bedroom facing the backyard is still open, and last night I fell asleep to the sounds of the night birds and the rain. How wonderful that was.Explore posts in the same categories: Musings comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.