Peeked out onto BackPorch early-early this morning, and you know what they say about it being darkest-just-before-dawn? I haven’t figured out who they is yet, but y’know—I think they’ve got something there. It was nearly five and nary a glimpse of dawn, so I shut the door, put on the kettle and waited.
You know the one about the watched-pot-never-boils? Well, it seems they were right about that one too! So, I began unpacking from my trip, listening with half-an-ear—the other half was still asleep—for the kettle.
Sometime later, bundled up in a cozy robe, extra socks and schlompy slippers, I picked up my mug of tea, and ventured out in the still-dark.
My! It is quiet in the early morning now. No more wake-up-chirps in the treetops, only the sound of shivering crickets in the deep woods, and… well, an occasional rustle of brush as something bigger-than-I-want-to-know heads into deeper undergrowth. Not that screens would do much to protect me should there be a curious beast lurking about, but still I am grateful to be enclosed with at least that much protection.
My! It is quiet in the early morning now. No more wake-up-chirps in the treetops, only the sound of shivering crickets in the deep woods, and… well, an occasional rustle of brush as something bigger-than-I-want-to-know heads into deeper undergrowth. Not that screens would do much to protect me should there be a curious beast lurking about, but still I am grateful to be enclosed with at least that much protection.
Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of autumn in that cool morning air? Sigh. I think we both know the answer. Ah well! The seasons plod on. We can plod along with them, or pick up our feet and dance. I think, today anyway, I’ll dance.
MouseHouse was quiet at 5:00 a.m. Sir Fivel was most likely up-and-about, and perhaps his Fivelina too, but their door was tightly shut, not even a glow of light peeking out.
It’s not uncommon to see them side-by-side in their hand-crafted swing—popsicle sticks and twine of course, but then you knew that—swinging gently there on the veranda as dawn peeks over the horizon, and sipping from their mugs of chicory. Most mornings, they try to steal a few quiet moments together before the mouselings rise and another day gets underway. Makes for a good marriage, you know.
This morning, though, being as chilly as it was, more likely it was a cozy wood fire in Walnut Woodstove on their minds, or maybe a few more minutes snuggled under a cozy thistle-down quilt.
So I tarried only long enough to finish my tea before slipping back inside for a refill and… well, warmer climes. [shiver]
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