A fingernail moon
The Western sky
The village is sleeping, except for a few hardy souls. Most of the houses are dark; the few lights are comforting as I make my way in the half-light. Over a background of robins and other warblers, comes the mournful "coo, coo" of the mourning dove. Off in the distance is the bark of a lonely dog.
I love these early morning walks. It smells so fresh, and the air is still crisp. In high summer, it will be muggy and less comfortable, but now it's just right. I trudge along, hardly thinking of "first mile", "mile-and-a-half", the way I do when I have to walk after work in the winter.
Yesterday morning, at Pretty Bay, I got up around 7:15, took a shower, then went down to the dock to read Morning Prayer. Two young boys were already fishing, and a Grandpa was leaning on the rail, drinking in the calm and peaceful scene, and his first cup of coffee. No one talked, except for a brief, friendly greeting; so I read in the prayerful silence. "The heavens declare the Glory of God." Amen
DB built my raised garden bed at the bay yesterday. Now I have to get at the garden here at home. I've neglected it badly. Too much traveling. I hope I have a full month without any trips. Then, it's off to Mexico to get our Mexican Grandson.
Happy Birthday, youngest, who was born on the REAL Memorial Day. I remember hearing the bands warming up in the delivery room. The windows were open!
6:30 AM
Peeks through the wispy clouds
on the rosy horizon.
is dark and ominous; does
this mean a rainy day?
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