Sleeping In on Sunday Morning

It is springlike enough for the doors and windows to be open this morning, so my Sunday morning ritual of the watching the talking heads pontificate while I practice (or try at least) my meditative calm is being accompanied by the bird songs from outside. The chorus include the songs of the many mockingbirds in our yard as they announce their territories. There are a number of redbirds adding their song to the mix. Even the raucous call of a crow can be heard.

Yesterday was so nice I spent most of the day outside enjoying the weather. As I walked along the woods at the back of the yard the Texas Privet and Honeysuckle really perfumed the air. The Privet brought back such memories of my childhood and summers sleeping with the windows open and the privet just outside wafting it’s perfume through the house. I also noticed that the Dewberries were ready for a first picking…Another childhood memory.

I just ran the youngest to work at the local taco shack. Used the excuse to hit the What-A-Burger for breakfast tacos. Bacon, eggs, cheese and potatoes in a flour tortilla…What more could a Texan ask for to start their day.

Well I am planning another day like yesterday…Lots of sitting in the sun with a book (face down) in my lap as I stared off in the distance. It doesn’t do much justice to Annie Dillard, whose book I wasn’t reading any faster than a page every hour, but I’ll do it again today.

Later…

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