Posts Tagged With: Outdoors

Taste Nature

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Kami

Look at this beautiful quote my daughter found and then created for her kitchen wall.

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When a person first looks at this hanging on the wall, aside from the beautiful green color, they initially read  “Taste Nature.” The they step in closer and read the entire thing.

“Given a taste for nature early in life.” What is that?

Is that a big red bowl full of a variety fresh fruit on the table all the time? The rich colors and textures of apples, pineapple, bananas, pears, and oranges inviting exploration and delighting the eye. Or is it snacks that consist of a bowl of fresh blueberries or grapes or apples? Perhaps it means meals made from scratch, or mostly scratch, fresh-baked bread or muffins, cooking done at home. Maybe it means trying new stuff at a young age because Mom or Dad seem to like it, stuff such as artichokes, asparagus, beets, frozen bananas, yams, squash or cherry tomato.

Fruit Basket

Fruit Basket (Photo credit: frankdasilva)

Or maybe a taste for nature early in life is spending time outside, bare feet in the grass, toes wriggling through sand, running through a sprinkler, throwing rocks in a pond, camping while still in diapers, helping plant and grow a backyard garden, or as simple as a regular walk outside?

Acquiring a taste for nature could also involve opening the windows to let the outdoors inside. Birds chirping, a breeze playing among the leaves, the plink and plunk of rain falling, a dog in the distance, perhaps a rooster crowing. Or you might open the car windows and let the scents of the places you pass make a child wonder at the smell of a distant grass fire,  fresh mown lawn or the dense rich aroma of mouldering leaves.

Or inviting a taste of nature may include a vase of flowers, a houseplant or two, a landscape painting hung nearby, or noticing and watching the sunset through a window.

I imagine every minuscule contact with nature a child experiences brings a richness into their lives that will serve them in countless ways in their future. The more interactive the better.

My only research on this topic involves seeing how my own children, and others as well, have enjoyed the outdoors, how they’ve reveled in the variety of flavors and colors nature provides. I’ve seen my life abundantly served and richly blessed by nature’s bounty.

With a taste for nature coursing through my veins I’ve found in life a cornucopia of wonder and beauty and joy.

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Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Open the Windows

Posted on October 3, 2013 by Kami
My flowers are loving the cooler weather, and so am I.

My flowers are loving the cooler weather, and so am I.

Guess what?

It’s gardening season!!! Happy dance, happy dance, happy dance!

Yessirreebob! In the desert climate of Arizona, it’s time to put those seeds in the ground. I get tingly all over just thinking about it.

Tingly might be overstating things a little.

Who wouldn't rather spend time with this beauty than a pile of laundry?

Who wouldn’t rather spend time with this beauty than a pile of laundry?

There’s just something about getting my hands in the soil, helping Mother Nature with her tasks, watching the little nothings of seeds become shiny orange carrots, rich red beets, curly green spinach. Sure, I admit that it’s work, but anticipatory work. Work with an outcome you can see and that lasts. It’s nothing like doing dishes or laundry or mopping or any other sort of indoor chore that already needs  redoing within hours, if not minutes after finishing.

I’d almost always rather be outside than inside. If I were rich I’d pay a glorious someone big bucks to keep the housework under control so I could frolic in the garden, mow the grass, plant bushes, trim trees, map out square foot plots of wonder and green stuff. I’d eat outside every meal I could, with a big shady umbrella for day time and candlelight in the evening.

Oh wait. I could do part of that now, without a house helper. Nothing’s stopping me from taking breakfast out to the patio table and breathing in the (finally) cool morning air of fall.

Surely I can ignore a few chores indoors and let my feet take me outside more often, to clean up the summer’s detritus and prep a spot for some waiting fall plantings.

Patio lights

Patio lights! (Photo credit: life is good (pete))

And evenings, well, sure, they’re a bit busy for me, but still, I could light a candle or two out back and sit in a lawn chair, look up at the stars, breath out the days dusty worries and breath in some oxygen freshly exhaled from the nearby orange tree. Or I could head out front to the porch swing and watch the world wander past at the park, catch a glimpse of a hummingbird getting its last sip from the feeder before settling in for the night.

I could probably even read a chapter or two by candlelight, or patio light if I thought about it.

It’s that priceless time of year in the desert with only good things to anticipate and summer’s heat a fading memory. It’s open window season, music wafting out into the yard season, planting hope season.

Related articles you should definitely read… and a Planting Guide
Categories: Gardening, Nature, Outdoors, phoenix | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Persuasion of a Cool Breeze

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! Today I’m grateful to have stepped outside two nights ago and felt actual cool air. I know in most parts of the world that’s a normal occurrence. In the Phoenix area it only happens for about five months of the year. After the summer’s onslaught of daily blast-furnace heat followed by evenings of sweltering baking, a cool breeze in the evening amazes and soothes.

Flower sad

(Photo credit: @Doug88888)

When the cooler weather arrives, a morning walk could happen without a bottle of water as a basic survival tool. The cobwebs get cleared off the front porch swing and long evening chats can happen again.

There’s a lighter quality to the oxygen in the air, a weight of oppression lifting. Hope returns that once again the park will fill up with people playing  games of capture the flag, soccer practices, tag, frisbee and lacrosse.

In a few days the air will begin to fill with the October smells of overseeding for winter lawns. Steer manure is the seed cover of choice around the valley. Things smell like a million head cattle drive moving  through for a few weeks. But after a brief spell of that malodorous scent on the breeze, grasses will green up in a riot of brilliant color. Flowers will burst out in a song of relief. Kids break out of their air-conditioned confines and populate the neighborhoods once more.

The idea of a walk in the moonlight no longer oppresses but instead sounds delightful and romantic.

With cooler air that blue hue in the sky just feels lovely instead of boring and repetitive.

To be honest with you, a few weeks ago I thought about moving. The idea of leaving this wretched heat played with my heartstrings in spite of the people attached to them. Now that the coolness, at least evening coolness, has arrived, I think I can stay.

English: Fishhook Barrel cactus (Ferocactus wi...

I’m pretty sure, in spite of the portent of milder weather and loveliness ahead, that deserts weren’t intended for human habitation. And yet, we as a species continue to insist on living  in them. Why do you think that is?

Is it like the mountain thing? We climb it because it’s there? We live here because we can? Do we always have to pick up the gauntlet when it’s thrown down at our feet? Could we just pick something in-between-ish for a change?

Or is that giving in to something, fence-sitting somehow?

I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m still not sure why I’m here after all these years later. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad I’ve been here. Mostly. What an incredible sixteen year ride it’s been.

Still I wonder how I’ve managed to get through that many summers. And why I continue to stay.

If I had the choice would I go?

Maybe.

Depends on if the breeze blowing through my cropped hair was a warm one or a cool one.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Not Your Usual Morning Walk

Posted on August 31, 2013 by Kami

Most early mornings bring me sleepy-headed and blurry wandering through my house. I open blinds, pull back curtains and let the day in so it can rouse me. The last step in this daily ritual finds me at the front door. I ease back the lock and open the door to whatever the morning might be holding for me.

Since I’m still in pajamas  with my hair a mangled mess I stand to the side of the doorway and peer out, as if letting someone into the house. I take a deep breath, and with it take a measure of the day. Clouds on the horizon feel hopeful although experience tells me little will come of them. There might be a breeze ruffling the trees tiny leaves or a bird flinging rocks in search of bugs. The park across the street might be hosting a dog, a frisbee and its owner. The colors in the sky could be almost any sixty-four count crayon box choice or a mix of them.

This habit I’ve somehow fallen into, of opening the front door every morning, has become a great way to open up the day.

photo-11 copy 10Some mornings, not very often, I feel pulled outside in spite of my state of undress and pillow ruffled hair. I might step out at the sound of a surprising bird call or a bit of rain, although the rain seldom happens in the morning here. I might venture out to look at a new bloom or an insect working its way across the porch rug. Whatever the cause for my foray past the lintel I have entered the outside world and broken the morning spell.

I live on a busy neighborhood through-street and keep myself within a few quick steps of the doorway, making it easy to disappear from view should a car drive past. The last thing I want is to come face to face, or face to car, still bleary-eyed and unprepared for the day. For those few moments I like to imagine I’m alone in my morningness, waking early, deliberately and mindfully.

On such mornings, when I do step back inside through the front door, I step through a door of anticipation. After such a beginning, a pair of birds chattering, a cat slinking about, a soft scent in the air, a dog running past down the street, the sheen of dew on the grass, the day holds only promise and possibility.

Instead of the usual feel of dullness my to-do list brings, I find on its page opportunity and meaning. The hurriedness of the day fades into a looking forward, to an excitement at the challenge of meeting deadlines. The usual aches and worries of the day sift through a screen door of anticipation and become evidence of a life rich with purpose and promise.

Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , | 9 Comments

When Life Gives You Snails, Make Escargot

Posted on July 19, 2013 by Kami

Day seven of Mom’s new adventure. She’s working with several different kinds of rehabilitation therapists about four hours a day and then resting from the hard work of it all. She can walk with assistance. She’s speaking better everyday. Remembering names is sometimes a bit tricky for her. She has some right side vision neglect that they are working on. She still has her sense of humor and expresses gratitude and love to everyone who visits or helps her out in any way.

&&&&&

We lived in the Northwest for a few years once upon a time. Humid and cool, opulent with growing things. We picked wild blackberries, rock climbed, camped, collected shells in the too cold water below the Tacoma Narrows bridge.

Winters were mild, with a couple of rare days of snow. Summers were cool and cloudy.

English: Snail Perfect weather for snails to c...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Perfect conditions for snails.

Yes, snails.

Slimy, slow-moving, bulbous shelled creatures of shadow and night.

They left trails of slime across the screens and sidewalks. And the destruction they left in a flower bed aggravated me to no end.

I tried a few remedies. Beer in a bowl, useless. Slug and snail bait, laughable. Salt, only if applied directly and mercilessly. I finally gave up planting flowers when I realized how addictive they seemed to snails.

I imagined the little slime balls after a night of debauchery in the flower beds, drunk on the nectar of blossoms and stems, fuzzy headed with the liquor of leaves and roots. I chose to stop enabling their habit and consequently stopped planting the hopeful pops of color in my garden.

That would teach them a lesson or two.

But no, it didn’t. They simply slimed the screens and sidewalks with more vehemence in search of their drug of choice. Finding no flowers to wreak havoc on, they slimed my yard more and more.

Why am I bringing this up now? (Besides the fact that the weatherman keeps taunting us with a 20% chance of rain as if a deluge is likely any moment.)

Those slimy snails remind me of negative things; sadness, anger, hopelessness, frustration, meanness, selfishness.

Those emotions seem to leave a wake of slimy yuck behind them. I feel the aftereffects of aggravation long after the source of the emotion dissipates. Sadness lingers. Meanness replays itself over and over in a mental movie of hurt. And selfishness hovers like a skunk that passed by hours ago.

The residual effects of negative emotions stick like slime.

Negativity and pessimism act like addictive substances. One angry thought invites another until a whole room of anger buzzes and jabs. Anything in its wake takes a hit and comes up fighting. Slime trails wander everywhere.

Gross.

The cure?

French cooked snails

French cooked snails (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t know. (We don’t get many snails here in the desert.)

Sunlight, maybe?

Heat, perhaps.

Escargot tastes delectable if done right. Saute’ in butter, add a bit of garlic, a pinch of fresh parsley. Mmmm. Some crusty french bread on the side.

Ah yes, there’s the ticket.

Yummy.

That’s no answer. I realize that.

Or is it? Try this one on for size:

When life gives you snails, make escargot. 

Laughter often sparks more laughter. I’m pretty sure that hope can be contagious. Smiles seem transmittable. Kindness often avalanches into more kindness. Determination to succeed, to overcome, to soldier forward feels healthier and happier.

Can I choose positive emotions over negative? Sure. Is it an easy choice? For some, yes. For others, not necessarily.

In the face of hardship, illness, unkindness, hurt, abuse, loss, suffering or setbacks, choosing the plus side takes audacity. It requires mettle to move forward, keep trying, be kind anyway, turn the other cheek, forgive, smile or to look at the alternate path as a new adventure.

Yes, I know. Not too many people like the idea of eating snails, no matter how wonderful a delicacy. But, you never know until you try if you’re gonna like ’em or not. Or maybe you don’t mind the slime trails and flower bed destruction. More power to you for being so resilient and easy-going.

Either way, life is full of surprises good and bad. How we weather those surprises, as gifts or troubles, makes all the difference.

Categories: Gardening, Nature, Outdoors, Wondering | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Hills Are Alive

Posted on June 11, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! I’m thankful for sweet surprises out in the natural world this past week.

Two mornings in a row I encountered an elk herd grazing near my campsite. Majestic, serene, bigger than life, these animals seem unruffled by humans and all their noise. They tolerate our presence. They look on in what I imagine is amusement at all our accoutrements and fluff and necessary survival gear. Meanwhile they wander the forest finding what they need, surrounded by family.

The Douglas Squirrel (Tamiasciurus douglasii) ...

Myriad numbers of squirrels crossed my path. Big fat ones, the size of cats! I’m afraid they might be getting too many munchies from the human side of the food chain, i.e., green apple flavored hard candy, (lick, lick, lick, lick, lick…) tootsie rolls, “cheese” covered corn chips, hot dogs, marshmallows, chocolate, taffy. Can you just picture their little food storage dens loaded with acorns, random candy and assorted junk food? They probably get through the winter on their body fat alone. Cute little critters though. I credit them with keeping the forest clean, the little foragers seem to love it all.

I also witnessed a variety of lizards, large and small, striped and plain, tailed and tail-less.

Butterflies visited a damp spot nearby every morning. I’m not talking your average run-of-the-mill monarch, although they are stunning. No, there were nickel-sized periwinkle blue fluttering songlets, yes, songlets. Their wings beat in a rhythm I couldn’t match and they flitted about like notes on a page, tones on a scale. Breathtaking. And the yellow butterflies were flower-petaled in their grace and color, elegant fliers with direction and purpose and no hurry to them at all. One morning a wasp or hornet of a variety I’d never seen before stopped by the butterfly watering spot. The stinger on that yellow and black sleek body was three inches long or more. Maybe it wasn’t a stinger, maybe it was a feeler, an antennae. I didn’t stick around to find out. Looked fierce enough to give it a wide path.

Pointleaf Manzanita blooming in the Mazatzal W...

Did I mention the wildflowers? I need to learn their names. A snapdragon-like cluster of three-foot stems with pale blue curling petals lined our hiking path several times. And always there were ground-hugging miniature purple throw rugs of flowers. Bright yellow mini-daisies jumped out in surprising places. Even the Manzanita trees had blossoms on them, highlighting the deep brownish red of their bark. Fresh needles, soft to the touch and new-green, tipped the branches of every pine tree. There’s no air-freshener in the world that matches that scent!

Luckily nature didn’t provide too many snakes, bugs, spiders or stinging or poisonous plants. I got lucky that way. Sure there were a couple of blisters, a cold night or two, some scorching days, but all the beauties that nature provides makes time out in the mountains a cornucopia of things to be thankful for.

If it’s been a while since you’ve experienced the joys of the mountains, maybe you can enjoy Julie Andrews singing about that particular joy. If you listen closely at the beginning you can hear birds in the background. Nice touch.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Answering the Call of the Wild As Best I Can

Posted on May 29, 2013 by Kami

Nature calls. No, not the way you’re thinking.

Let me rephrase.

I’ve heard the call of the great outdoors, the mountains, ponderosa pines and dirt trails for a couple of months now. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out among the wild things.

I’m anticipating some nature time here soon. Just thinking about it relaxes the muscles in my back and brings a smile to my face. Ahhhh….

English: Young female cones on Ponderosa Pine ...

Did you know the bark on a Ponderosa pine tree has a vanilla scent to it? You have to get up close and personal to really pick it up, but it’s there. And the needles and pine pitch? Mmmmmm, there’s a smell to enliven the soul and rejuvenate the senses.

Getting away from the light pollution of the city, up into the mountains, allows a view of the night sky that’s always there, but not always visible. A spectacle of magic and mystery, uncountable stars emblazon the night sky like so many scattered gems on a black velvet cloth. That alone gives pause for some seriously deep contemplation and introspection.

Hiking slows the pace of the world down to manageable proportions. There’s time for savoring details like a scattering of quarter-inch flowers, or the sound of a small stream making its way downhill, or the varieties of green.

Birds accompany every activity up there, especially morning goings on. Mornings and birds are inseparable and a perfect combination, like hot chocolate and whipped cream. Every pip, cheep, chitter, whistle, peep, and song adds to the delights of the day.

Cooler air. Ah, yes. Getting off the desert floor up into higher country provides a welcome and much-needed respite from the flirting with 100’s temps we’ve had here. Just the mere sound of wind making its way through the pine boughs brings relief. When the actual breeze brushes past carrying snatches of songs from all the trees I feel renewed, baptised and reborn.

I think I sound lovestruck. Infatuated. Irrational.

Probably true.

Toronto racoon at night. Toronto, Canada is no...

The reality is:

  • I don’t sleep well while camping. I’m jittery and nervous of the great outdoor’s night noises.
  • At the first hint of daylight I’m outta the tent and building a huge fire and heating a pot of water.
  • Some of the other campers will be noisy, annoying, silly and clueless.
  • There’s probably some fire restrictions if not an outright ban.
  • Mosquitos and I don’t get along well and will be battling it out every evening.
  • After a few days of bliss I’ll be happy to return to the valley of heat, dust, flush toilets and long hot showers, pillows, beds and internet connections.
  • I’ll wax nostalgic about the mountains and nature until the next time I get to escape.

English: Old growth Ponderosa pines in Lost Fo...

The other reality is:

  • I’ll love it while I’m there, itchy bites, dirty hair, sleepless nights and all.
  • The hills are alive with the sound of music and bugs and crazed campers and beauty.
  • There’s no separating the good from the bad.

So while I’m packing up the flashlight, camp chair, bug repellant and sleeping bag, I’ll also bring along a pen and notebook, a camera, my hiking boots and my decent attitude.

I’ll leave my iPod and earbuds at home though. I don’t want to miss nature’s playlist.

Categories: Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Summertime

Posted on May 23, 2013 by Kami

School’s out today for the next couple of months. No more national anthem wafting across the park every morning at 8:45. No more a.m. and p.m. traffic as parents drop off and pick up their littles. No more playground noises, of tether ball chains against poles, kick ball, swings squeaking, girls screeching, boys in mock battles, girls piled up in little cliques like so many fall leaves blown into a pile.

Ah, the summer freedom of children.

Months stretch out before them in a vast sweeping prairie of waving grasses, unexplored trails, toes in cold streams, popsicles dripping, and entire days spent swimming.

Oh wait, that was my childhood. Do kids still do that?

English: Cottonwood Trees in Lions Park

There’s still a sense of freedom, but I get the feeling that it’s only a pale shadow of the freedom I enjoyed.

I took off running by ten every morning to my best friend’s house. From there the two of us would race to the park, with its open grass fields, a swampy tadpole pond, a meandering creek, a cottonwood tree-filled valley, ivy covered hills, rusty barbed wire fence lines. We spent most of the day there roaming, dreaming, romping, hiding, in imaginary wars with other kids who also played there.

Completely unsupervised.

Yes.

Not an adult in sight. Can you imagine it?

It was a different world. An innocent time. A protected, sweet existence.

A small pocket of pure perfection.

Categories: Memory Lane, Nature, Outdoors, The World | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Skipping Rocks

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! Today I am thankful for all the time I’ve spent skipping rocks. Sending a small flat rock spinning out of  my hand to dance across the surface of the water vibrates some string in me.

Perhaps it’s the wonder of making something heavy and utterly unfloatable perform such a magical feat.

Perhaps it’s the surroundings of shore, sky, water, wind and trees.

Perhaps it’s due to the contemplative nature of finding just the right shape and size of flattened, smooth rock.

Surface waves

That perfect chord vibrating deep within me might even happen as I watch the circle of ripples each skip of the rock creates. One, two, three, four, FIVE! I haven’t ever skipped much further than five bounces on the surface. Some people have just the right touch and can make those rocks fly, barely touching the surface multiple times.

Water fascinates and soothes. Listening to waves, whether the quiet lapping on a pebbled lake shore, or the roar of wave crashing into rock and sand at the ocean, both lull and awe. Like watching the earth breathing, in and out, in and out, I find comfort in the rhythm and consistency.

Add water to the equation of a bored or stressed child and the sum is contentment and happiness. The ever-changing yet constant quality of  water makes it the perfect toy, the ultimate entertainment. Filling container after container, sloshing, splashing, pouring, dripping, diverting, puddling, spraying, flooding. Bath time could last for hours.

As opposite as night and day, hot and cold, rocks and water. Rocks resist movement and change. Rocks just sit there. Or so it seems. The change rock undergoes is slow, nearly invisible, requires eons. And yet there is evidence of change in the round smoothness of river rock, the zillions of grains of sand on a beach, the fissures and arches of sandstone, the worn down hill of a former mountain.

ENJOYING THE LAKE SHORE - NARA - 551571

Can’t say I’ve ever heard or seen a mom say, “here’s some rocks, have fun, kid.” Not likely. It takes some direction to know how to make a rock become a toy. Or a tool for contemplation. Or a form of competition.

Rock and water.

I could use a couple of hours sending some rocks skipping across the water. Glad I learned how. Extra happy that I understand the joy of such a simple, small action.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Nature, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Listening to the Sun Rise

Posted on April 19, 2013 by Kami

It’s been a while since I’ve listened to a morning begin.

Woke from a frightening dream last night and never did get back to sleep. So when first light began to push the night away I stepped outside.

Surprisingly a cool mid-April breeze blows through our suburban southwest neighborhood. I forget how cold the mornings can feel in the dry desert air.

Abert's Towhee ( Pipilo aberti)

Abert’s Towhee (Photo credit: Alan Vernon.)

The mix of Grackle screeching, Inca Dove cooing, Finch twitter, Cactus Wren whistle, Sparrow cheeping, Hummingbird buzzing and chipping, and Towhee calls seemed oddly loud in the early morning silence.

Then a car drove past and the bird sounds were nearly inaudible in the wake of engine noise. Not thirty seconds later, the bird sounds took over the morning’s orchestrations and filled the chill air with their busy conversation.

I’ve wished I spoke bird on more than one occasion. Do they complain about the noisy neighbors or the fretful chick that kept them awake? Do they discus their busy day ahead, the long to-do list of twig gathering, bug capturing, water hunting, territory guarding? Do they need to nudge the spouse again and again, finally resorting to singing a bit off-key to get him or her out of the nest? Is there a honey-do list for one to the other that needs details added? Do the teen birds complain about breakfast being the same old bugs again? Who knows? It’s fun to imagine though.

Or is it really just a rose-colored glasses kind of morning for them every single day of the year, happy songs, cheerful melodies, worry-free existence? I somehow don’t think it’s that either.

English: Curve-billed Thrasher (Toxostoma curv...

Curve-billed Thrasher  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The breeze picks up and with it the added tones of my windchime swirl about the air with the various bird sounds. As the light increases so does the bird chatter and real sightings of birds. A hummingbird angles in to the feeder hanging near my porch swing. After a quick sip it darts back into the nearby tree to watch for interlopers. A curve-billed Thrasher swoops in and lands in the rocks and begin its messy morning work of flinging rocks on my sidewalk and driveway in search of tasty bugs. Eat all you want, I say under my breath.

English: Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), Cali...

Killdeer  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There’s a bird that looks and acts surprisingly like a Killdeer in the park across the street. Seems like an odd spot to see one. Not really a nest-friendly place for a ground nest builder. Hmm. I’ll have to research that one later today.

The sun glares out over the horizon, no golden orange, no clouds to shift the light to various shades and hues. Just the burst of sudden light, strong and almost loud in its brightness. The sky seems a whitish blue, cold, thin and stark. Not sure what that means for the day ahead. Not sure I want to know.

Not many more of these gentle Spring mornings are left. Soon the early hours will be warm and then turn hot quickly as the sun breaks its night moorings. Summer’s unrelenting onslaught of blasting, blazing, blaring heat will bake us all into submission, force us indoors most hours of the day. Escapes to the cool pine mountains will haunt our nights. High elevations with lower temperatures will inhabit our daydreams. Rain will be a distant wish, clouds a taunting temporary mirage.

Perhaps this is why I had a sleepless night. Perhaps I needed reminding how rare and precious these cool hours are. I’ve let mornings slip by the wayside since my January-long cough set me back. I’ve slept in too many mornings, too many days. Perhaps it’s time. Perhaps I need to wake early every day to dip my psyche in the pool of morning song and early light.

There are few better ways to begin a day than this.

Hummingbird 4

Hummingbird (Photo credit: alana sise)

The lack of sleep is catching up to me. Maybe, now that the sun is up, the morning started, the heat working its way into the air, I can catch an hour of sleep before I really have to start the day.

More than likely the pillow will lose that battle and I’ll slog through my day ahead, drowsy and fuzzy headed and ineffective. I really should get some shut eye while I can, and for the next hour, I can.

I’ll also get to bed earlier tonight. I can feel the need for another morning reverie on the horizon for tomorrow.

Categories: Nature | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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