On the morning of a day expected to be
heating up
severe storms in the forecast
I sit by the pond
in a lovely light breeze
a peaceable smile, dogs at my feet
watching a monarch flutter
and the orioles
in the trumpet vine, attracted to the
sweetness
of bold flowers
the palpable joy of the cabbage whites
as they dance together
from blossom to
blossom
and a bee on the thistle finally open
legs coated a fluffy brilliant yellow
with about as much pollen
as can be carried
and still expect to make his flight
teeny-tiny toads venturing out for the independence
of dry land
chipmunks and squirrels boldly sneaking in for peanuts
before the blue jays have stolen them all
the cardinals and chickadees peeping graciously
in a kind of duet
of gratitude
doves with their heads bowed together
in reminders of making
peace
sparrows on the rooftop survey imposing
cloud convergence
while my husband is out front
to trim up a little of the remaining grass
seems an obsessive compulsive lawn purist
disguising himself
with less virtue than a cowardly lion
has made a complaint
for conformity
the bare minimum
will suffice
looks like we’re in for stormy weather
and I don’t mind the rain ♥
“and when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.”
~ Ruskin Bond