1) I’m sitting at our kitchen table, aka my work desk and 2) staring out the front window. 3) I see our peach tree is covered in the tiniest peaches. 4) I wonder how many will grow, how many will be eaten by squirrels, how many will be eaten by us. Last year Matt said they were the best peaches he’d had—I think the process of picking them off your own tree increases the flavor.
5) I see bright pink azalea blooms on the bush that my mom gave us for Easter probably 5 years ago. We named it Iggy and it lived on the patio of our apartment, then traveled with us from LA to Atlanta. To be honest, neither Matt nor I can remember if this bush is the original Iggy or if the original (like our dear guava tree Ferdinand) didn’t make it through the move and the first winter, where it snowed twice and our neighbors had to explain that this was not the norm.
I’m choosing to believe she’s the original.
6) I hear the sounds of Littles crunching her cat food, 7) birdsong in the backyard, 8) the hum of the freeway in the distance, 9) the click of my fingers on the keyboard. These are the sounds of my day.
10) A cardinal just swooped through the peach tree, past the window so I only saw a flash. And now 11) I’m thinking of my grandma and the summers in Virginia where cardinals would come to her bird feeder. I’m sure I saw other birds, but it’s the cardinals that stuck.
12) I’m drinking the last bit of my Irish Breakfast tea and contemplating another cup.
13) I’m writing this on my notes app and not sure if it will travel beyond that. So many others haven’t. 14) If you’re reading this, then I got over myself enough to open my website, copy and paste, press publish at last.
