It’s perfect grass growing season, hot and humid with weekly showers… July’s first morning coffee muses.

The morning light is subdued. Dust from Africa, the Sahara desert, crossing an ocean to affect our skies. It seems we need a rain to wash the dust out of the air.

There is a male cardinal fussing in the wisteria. Across the bayou, a tan horse is grazing.

I’m hearing crickets this morning, not the cicadas that normally dominate the conversation.

From the news yesterday, it seems our President is actually good at raising crowds… at least in protest. I don’t think the angry old white vote is going to be enough much longer. Hell, I’m an angry old white man… but I’m angry at the Trumpets. Even my disdain for George W Bush can’t hold a candle to my moral outrage at this President. The more he presses his policies of closeness to the dictators of the world, the more I am forced to question the patriotism of his base.

And now he wants to pick another justice for the Supreme Court who will in all likelihood be called on to decide his fate. And we all know how he values personal loyalty above everything else.

The first bird on the feeder today was a chickadee.