I sit here with the dog, and with the cat and I listen. I listen to the cardinal's coquettishly singing, to the woodpecker's percussion, and to the accompanying consort of chickadees, sparrows, and of one mourning dove. I sit and watch as the squirrel, tail flicking, scolds the dog as he now runs round the willow tree issuing an occasional woof as if to say, I didn't want to catch you anyway. The cat, remains asleep in the red deck chair he claimed as his own, with only the occasional half opened eye to indicate his distain.
My coffee has cooled from the breeze that also makes the willow wisps sway and dance. The very first tiny lilac flower has opened, much like a sleepy child awakening from a nap on a picnic blanket on a warm day.
I would sit in this moment, and I never need another thing.
