Quiet Saturday Morning

After working in the yard this morning, I sat under the pergola
in the ever warming sun. I had plucked out a weed or two, loving the sound of the roots letting go of moist soil as I tugged at their green unruly leaves. My shears nipped away several dead and dying leaves from the baskets where the drip system wasn't quite doing it's job in a yard that heats up to 105 degrees in the afternoon sun. As I sat, flowers of vibrant purple, goldenrod, burgundy, and white, cropped their heads from beneath 50 shades of green. The yellow rainbird spun; its long silvery streams of water bouncing off grass, tree, fence and post reminded me of the sound of a locomotive moving along steel track--chug, chug chug, chug, chug chug.

I sat in the sun; my feet in a puddle of water beneath the pergola.


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