A light drizzle is surrounding me as I wander through the gardens cutting flowers to put in the farmstand. It is sunrise, only the sun isn’t shining. The humidity seems high and the gnats are horrible and the mosquitoes are biting. I’m hot and my body heat is steaming up my glasses so that I can’t see. I couldn’t be happier. Birds are busily going about their morning routines, the chickens are still in the coops, protesting loudly that they want out. A large red-tailed hawk swooped down behind the big hen house and went after a nest of Robins. The tranquil bliss was brought to an end. The hawk has been hanging around here for about a week. Most disturbing to our little piece of paradise.
I heard the cry from Daisy and quickly ran outside to see what was happening. There I found great big foxy-loxy with a grip on my dear sweet Daisy.
A few years ago, our friend Donna, passed away after a battle with cancer.
We’ve all been there.
In that place where you had feelings for someone and they didn’t reciprocate.
Sigh, it’s just part of life.
You can feel it.
The earth is ready to shake off her winter blanket. There are quiet stirrings and subtle shuffling of the layers.
The robins are singing sweetly at sunup.
The scent in the air is different too.
Maybe it is because it has been cold here recently.
Maybe I just want to remember what it feels like to have warm sun on my bare skin and brightly colored flowers blooming.
Maybe it is because my screen saver popped up a few of these photos and I just felt like sharing them with you.
It’s raining again, which is better than snow, but still is it ever going to stop? Mr. Cottage said it feels muted today.
That grey cast has wrapped around our little house and it feels like no matter how many lights we turn on, we can’t overpower the gloom.
It’s a good day for snuggling in the old patchwork quilt.
Oh my, it’s almost over, February, that is.
It’s the calm before the storm.