Come Into the Garden
The sun streams through the windows this morning and I long to be outdoors. I have a few moments this morning; my class doesn't begin until 9:45, so I slip into my shoes and pick up my secateurs on the way out the door.
I take a quick tour of the garden. The red tulips (and I thought I planted pink several years ago) blaze with life. I look more closely and sure enough, there's a pink rogue among the red.
Over in the bluebells, the first pretty bells are open. I've noticed them in the woods where we walk, and have been impatiently waiting for ours.
I snip a few stems. They look lovely on the tea cart, but the light in the corner windows will soon be their demise. I sip my mug of tea as I ponder where to put them. I like a mug for my morning tea, still thin bone china, rather than a tea cup. Which do you prefer?
I plunk the flowers unceremoniously into a yogurt pot that I brought back from Paris last summer, and set it on the kitchen counter.
As I wander back towards the fire (all that bright light does not equal warmth) to finish my tea, the play of shadow and light on this side table catches my eye and I reach once again for my camera. A plant, a book, and a coaster. I finished the book last night - Balancing Act, by Joanna Trollope.
Now it's time to head off. I'll walk to school today. Although I can't be in my garden, the sun will shine on my head and I'll breathe in the smells of earth. It's Friday and a weekend of possibility lies ahead.