Monday, May 24, 2010
I miss those few weeks in which I could sit out on my back patio watching the clouds roll by as ideas swirled around in my head. The grass in the pasture behind my house was over grown. That large black mare, I call her Lady, would lean over my fence and look at me as if to say, "Shouldn't you be working?" She'd resume her nibbling on grass and glance my way every now again to be sure I wrote something. The gentle breeze with a hint of rain would ruffle the pages on the glass table top before me. I move my cup to hold several lose peices down. I hear the bird who built her nest in my garden chirp and she reminds me to stop and smell the flowers all around.
Ah...where did spring go?
It was 92 outside today - screw sitting on the patio.