I'm just resting. We've finished speech for the season, and I am very busy....doing very little. Collapsing under the puffy duvet, feeling the soft breezes sneaking in the window, listening for the screeching hawks soaring by, hoping that the cleaning fairies will visit while I nap.
I'll be back, but for now my body, my mind and my spirit need to rest. I'm looking forward to sitting on the deck, pictured above, this next week-end; I can almost feel the cool water on my warm toes. Thoughts of next year are lurking just around the corner in my mind, but I am content to recuperate for another day or two.
In between the usual tasks and the resting I am reading:
Schindler's List
and
Given, a book of poetry by Wendell Berry.
It's already getting too warm here, by my narrow weather definitions, but the evenings are a slice of heaven. The sky gets the most hypnotic shade of periwinkle blue as the sunset splashes pink on the horizon, and the air smells clean and warm and peaceful. I know that the broiling days of summer are coming, and I am reserving the rock I can hide under, but this very small taste of spring is quite welcome.
More soon...when I wake up.
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