The cool morning settled on my bare toes. I don’t care, I love being outdoors. The
community of tress towering over me standby as my protectors. The hills peak-a-boo through the trees highlighted
by the early morning light. Silence falls over the mornings, the songs of
spring have long ago gone now, summer fades.
Cool mornings hint at fall just around the corner, not my
favorite time of year. My favorite time,
spring. Spring starts with frogs loudly singing
at 3am keeping me up. Frog singing signal
spring will be here soon. As spring gets
closer the song birds start their morning chorus the same time the frog’s songs
fad in the early morning telling me summer is even closer. Time passes fast for
me in the spring and so does the frog songs leaving the birds chorus boom louder
in the backyard as I sip my coffee. Aaaahhhhh,
my favorite time of year. I recall all
of spring as I sip my coffee here in the North Cascades.
Now on the brink of fall I gather food. Canning peaches to keep a touch of summer
with me throughout the winter. The peaches
bring a touch of sunshine in my day through the drizzle of rain on those gray
mornings. The canned tomatoes are part
of winter comfort food of pot roasts, spaghetti, and soups. This is what keeps me going through the
winter months along with the memories of warmer times.
Winter for now will be an internal journal, writing my memoir, reviewing where I've been and yes even at my age where I might go. You see I'm a late bloomer. My life has been about coming out of my shell, observing, thinking and slowly taking my place in the world. People ask me about my where my next journey will be, my answer for now, inwards.
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