Coffee erases the sleepiness of the new day. Making breakfast, packing lunch, brushing teeth, brushing hair, putting on shoes. We walk a quarter of a mile to the entrance of our neighborhood where the school bus will meet us. The foggy air is scented with the cedar, fir, and pine trees that tower over the houses like gentle giants silently keeping watch. A group of children amuse themselves at the bus stop by picking huckleberries off of a bush and tossing them into the air, trying to catch them in their mouths. The parents wrangle their energetic big dogs and young toddlers while catching up on news and gossip. Dulce stays in one spot and intently keeps watch for something I’m unaware of.
The school bus pulls up and skillfully misses the curb by inches. It stops, the door opens, the driver waves, and the children load one by one. They are whisked off to school while everyone else returns to their daily life at home or work. Johnnie is home for now, leaving again in a day or two. Home is a revolving door for an airline pilot. I’m thankful when he gets a few extra spin arounds before heading out.
Off running errands, I drive by the harbor. The fog has lifted and the sky is a brilliant blue, separated from the water by the green landscape and a snow-covered volcano hovering on the horizon. The tide is in. Fishing boats, sailboats, and yachts pull against the ropes holding them captive. Gulls float overhead looking either for food or a place to land. An eagle soars high on the breeze blowing in from the west. People walk on the sidewalk, stopping to point at a seal sunning itself on a dock. I drive down another favorite road on my way home. The long stretch of forest with extra tall moss-covered trees filters the sunlight into rays, making it look like a passageway into another place and time.
In the evening after dinner, C does her homework while the sun sets. Our large westward facing windows frame the Olympic Mountain range in the distance, bare for a few more weeks until it becomes snow capped for the winter. The sun paints the clouds as it sinks and sets the sky ablaze with color. The darkness here is enveloping as we’re away from city and street lights. Raccoons visit our birdbath for a late night drink and knock it over. I reassemble and refill it in the morning on my way to the garden to pick some yellow cherry tomatoes to put in C’s lunchbox for another day of school.
“It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”
~Mary Oliver
WOW!! I can just see it all through your eyes. Thank you.
I love you 😍