I had to have a peek at the sodden North Forty before leaving for work this morning. The trees, with their limbs bowed down under the weight of yesterday's gully washer sang "Who'll Stop the Rain" while the weeds and plants in the muddy, puddled garden serenaded me with "The Halleljuiah Chorus". Once the garden dries, I will be "Taking Care of Business" with a hoe in my hand.
"Thank you, sweetheart" said my anonymous friend as he handed me my hot cup of coffee this morning. While I don't know his name, nor him mine, we nevertheless, exchange such pleasantries almost every morning. Sweetheart is a term we bandy about so easily, but when you think about the word itself, it really is a lovely word. Sweet Heart. What a nice way to begin the day.
I seldom drive with the sunroof cover open. Since Better Half had last driven my Suburban, the cover was open. I enjoyed the view of the raindrops on the glass. I saw a blue heron arc its way across the grey gloomy sky, its long legs hanging out behind it. A different point of view this Monday morning - refreshing.
And, the glorious fog that nestled amid the Kentucky hills, whispy fingers of white reaching down into the verdant forest canopy. Where was a camera when I needed it?
Happy Monday!
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