Tamara Willems

while outside my window…

To begin the day,  before I am wanting to be awake
I flip the bird to the morning creeping in my window
well, not specifically to the morning, but rather to the person who is honking their horn
outside on the street
rudely disturbing sleeping beauty (errgh!)
although this hardly describes me this morning,  nor is it my first time awake
as I have had to be up once already to let the dog out
as well as once in the night, just after I had nicely drifted off to sleep
I am tired and as my daughter’s like to say –  a little ‘cranks’
actually I think it is safe to say,
a LOT cranks
and I know it,  the only good thing about this mood, I suppose
is today, I do know ..  it is definitely …   me
in a quick ‘save-yourself’ kind of fashion my husband has gone off to work
probably best
for both of us
to be fair, the neighbour’s dog who is again incessantly yelping outside
would indeed annoy anyone who has to listen to it
for well over an hour
and while it grinds on my nerves
I do recognize that it is really the sound of anguish (not a regular kind of bark)
and I feel a slight compassion for the sadly neglected pooch
but I really WISH IT WOULD STOP!!!!
the cicada tries to take over in full voice,  by averting my attentions
and I appreciate the kindness
picking up my camera,  I feel the pull to
as a balm
as a way to allow myself grace and ease
to a walk among the flowers
almost immediately the hummingbirds arrive
and then the monarch
the sun shines, and the sky above, the most gorgeous stretch of azure blue
I take some time to watch the bees
and greet a rather gentlemanly grasshopper
I watch the light as it highlights the colours of each petal

this morning I read:
When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness
in small things.  Where is beauty to be found?  In great things that, like everything else are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?

and I allow these words to dance around inside me
in spirals and swirls
as I wander…

when later,  I am sitting to try and write myself out of a cloud
my daughter brings her bird over and sits his cage just off to my right shoulder
so that he too can best enjoy
the sunshine
and while I write he sits close by and softly chats away
such a lovely fellow is he, in the softest of yellow
and I tell him just how beautiful
we chatter and he consoles and then,
another hummingbird comes to the flower outside the window
we stop…  and we watch
and I
I look up at the sky and see an elongated feathery white cloud
I watch a very large bee bury himself in a flower
and then…
again my little friend resumes his chat
and i speak to him of
pretty things and gentle things and
as the kettle starts
to whistle

as is always the case it seems,
the antidote to a kind of cranky sort of day (and most things)

is a little free space
a little sunshine
a little kindness
a nice
cup of tea

and a lovely pair of
wings  ♥


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