Bright and cold. I pull down my hat brim to see the shadows of the trees striping my yard. Valley noise is minimal but for one train horn, clear as a blast on an angel’s trumpet.
1 Comment
Comments are closed.
Previous Post: Previous Post
Next Post: Next Post
Permalink
Gorgeous!
I rarely comment, but I do read you every morning in my in-box. I read each one twice, slowly, entering into it as much as I can. Then I delete it, because I can’t keep so many emails, and because these are in-the-moment experiences you share. I read them in my morning, which is when I see them — a very different morning, always, from yours, so it’s nice to spend a long, deep moment in yours. (Also I keep learning names of birds I’ve never heard of and can’t imagine until I Google!)