It’s a quiet morning. I didn’t realize it since I was listening to the news and making breakfast, but as I slow down, quiet myself and TOTALLY MEAN to get downstairs and to work – I notice the sound of the breeze outside and need to take time to relax into it.
Kristen’s not up yet and I’m not going to say our schedule’s are purposefully offset, but my chosen Life is one where I Live with, travel with, play with and work with my wife and so moments of solitude are rare.
I got a rare message from an ex this morning. One with whom things were never right and I’ve always regretted that I couldn’t leave her NOT angry. She heard us on the radio this morning and reached out. Perhaps an olive branch, perhaps just a passing thought… but it breaches many years of silence (the last message was a no-doubt-accidental spam forward, the one before that an angry reply to my accidental friend-request during a contact import when I joined Facebook, I think?) and I reply pleasantly, but try to make sure all things are statements, not questions. People should be able to just say a THING and not invite further contact if, you know, they don’t want to invite it.
So my thoughts aren’t calm. My thoughts are a little roiled. But the world outside my little Baltimore rowhouse is calm. Flowing. Shushing.
It’s one of my favourite sounds. It’s driving with the windows down in the middle of the night. It’s lying awake at Grandma’s house in Williamsport, PA. It’s sitting by the river.
A car alarm breaks the moment, but only for a second, and then it’s back to this rare tranquility. Trees murmuring, ceiling fans rhythmically tapping, omnipresent 60 cycle hum keeps me from forgetting the shelter for which I’m ever so grateful. Empty bird feeder blowing in the wind. It’s not hot enough yet for the air conditioners and fans that get us through every summer day.
Yesterday was loud. Lawns were fought early. Gas mowers and powered trimmers buzzed till the heavy rains rolled in and a neighbour’s dog howling, howling, howling.
For the moment – I don’t know what it signifies – but birdsong’s become rare in the neighbourhood (I don’t think it has anything to do with the empty feeder) and a sudden burst of chirping seems out of place.
I’m watching the light pulse light and dark through the windows and clouds must be whipping past. I think we get rain today too. But I don’t want to check the weather. I don’t want to get up and look. I probably waste a lot of time, but I don’t think THIS is wasted. This is beautiful.
I hear movement upstairs. Sounds like the cat hath roused the cellist. Time to start my day.