Saturday, February 27, 2021

This Perfect Moment

 A beautiful morning. I'm sitting on the front patio. A small plane drones lazily above; a lawn mower, a few gardens over, keeps the drone going as the plane fades; the pineapple sage next to my chair is bright with small red flowers; the mint spills over the edge of its pot; a car hums by and then a motorbike, way too fast, then gone; muffled voices drift from across the street; Bill, next door, rests from whacking weeds to stand in the sun with the OC, both of them, arms akimbo, undoubtedly planning how to fix a world gone nuts or, failing that, at least the best way to prune the trees. The sun beams down, the lizards sit, motionless, soaking it up. Makes me smile 'cause my back feels it too. 

Must plant those geraniums and candytuft, maybe in the pot vacated by the poinsettia that froze in our cold spell? And I really must yank out that annoying and prolific spidery plant that always tries to take over the world! Maybe plant something pretty, less obnoxious, in that pot? I wonder what's up with the orchid that has a dozen new flower buds but nary a leaf? A sudden flutter behind me and I turn to say hello to a beautiful bird, stretching his wings in the bushes, barely an arm's length away.

There's bread to bake, a book to finish, borders to sew on a baby quilt, more blocks to make for another quilt, squares to cut for a long promised quilt for CA Girl and, of course, ever present housework. I don't know what challenges tomorrow will bring but yesterday's have'nt killed us yet. We're still kickin' and glad of it. 

Right now, in this moment at least - perfection.