I’m sitting on the back porch at the cabin. It’s too early for most people to be awake on a holiday but when you have dogs, you lose the luxury of waking on your own. I’m not complaining though; there’s much to witness in the early morning and it doesn't always hang around for the late wakers.
Starting with the birds. If I could identify them by their songs, I’d sprinkle this post with some telling information but I cannot. All I can reveal is that there are several different sounds of chirping and singing going on around me. There are two birds in the Oak tree, and a couple in the Willow behind me. Several are across the way in the woods. They’re all going about their morning, conversing over what, I do not know. Add the Cicadas and I’m surrounded by the voices of summer.
A storm blew threw last night in a blaze of glory, lightening, high winds, the whole show. Put me to sleep in a nice way. The ground is saturated, puddles everywhere. The Oak tree’s branches are heavy and dark. The porch is still wet and moisture clings to all the furniture and railings. It’s been a while since I’ve not had to pull out the sprinkler and water the grass and trees, but with the rains Friday and Sunday, nature is taking care of her own. This means I haven’t had to combat the ant pile beneath the hose once this weekend.
At the edge of the land, I can see the river, smooth as glass and reflecting the sky. Cheyenne ventures out, twitches her nose at the top of the stairs, circles to find just the right spot by my feet, and sighs. It's good. A summer morning, a girl, and her dog.