Another Sunny Winter’s Coffee Muses. 1458 days.
The thermometer says it’s cool. The skin on my arm says not so much. It’s still. It’s quiet. It’s sunny. I think I’ll turn on the ceiling fans…
I just had a number of red tailed hawks doing their thing loudly along Mustang Bayou. I love watching them. Everyvery winter brings so many hawks to the area. That’s one of the things it’s my favorite season here. But, when you get a number of red tailed hawks talking to each other it gets loud rather quickly.
You know it’s quiet when the sound of the ceiling fans is the loudest background noise you hear. Oh, the cardinals are singing, there is a couple of mockingbirds by the kumquat, I hear chickadees in the cypress tree… But really it’s just a nice quiet morning on the back porch.
I think I’ll just hang out here and chill before I start checking the news and getting upset…
A Bright and Sunny Winter’s Sunday Coffee Muses.
After thunder and lightning with a bit of rain overnight, this morning is what I think a perfect winter’s day should be. It’s cool enough that with the breeze, a balance is reached with the sun streaming down and the warmth is just right. But… only with the breeze.
If you look at the full sized version of the image above, on the far right you will see my kumquat tree. The freeze a couple of weekends ago took away most of the leaves and left the giant fruit. All I have to say is, they ain’t my grandpa’s kumquats… I remember well those little bite sized orange fruits. These naval orange sized things are bitter/sour in the extreme. Some of my family like ’em some can’t stand ’em. But the smell is exactly like I remember.
I was much heartened by the show of resistance yesterday. While I know in my heart nothing we do will change our new President’s will, I can only hope that the will of the people will cause the Republican office holders to pause and think about their future before they run willie-nillie towards the cliff Donald Trump is leading them towards. Their fight to turn back the clock 100 years or so will not bring the results they long for. I am extremely proud of my family and friends who participated in the Women’s Matches held around the world… I am proud to say “I stand with them”. And to all the bullies of the world I say, “I have their backs, each and every one, no matter where, no matter when!” We The People will not tolerate hate.
Have a peaceful and blessed day of disrespect towards our new government.
Soggy Morning Coffee Muses.
My backyard is as wet as a soggy sponge. The rain that fell was not of great quantity. It hasn’t been raining that much all month. But the ground is like a sponge, soaked full, it squishes when walked upon.
While the view from my porch is very much rural, the number of times each day you hear sirens puts lie to that observation. Inside the city’s limits with us, reside close to 30,000 people. We reside on the southern limits of Greater Houston, and pretty much smack in the center of the Houston Metropolitan area. That means that within an hour of us, we have about six and half million neighbors… so, hearing sirens on a regular basis should be expected. And, since we live about a mile away from the police station, the fire department, and the ems station, sirens are a way of life around hear.
Slightly Foggy Coffee Muses.
The air is cool and heavy. Slightly foggy. Carrier of sounds.
The traffic on the bypass seems right next door. A roar of synthetic rubber on wet concrete amplified by wet air.
The sun’s warmth is muted as it burns through the damp layers of air and water. Now gone completely as the clouds win the eternal battle for the moment. Clouds that recently kissed the earth instead of sky. Dew so heavy on the grass it glistens, it sparkles whenever the sun momentarily wins out.
Way up in the live oak tree what looks like a spiritual whisp sways to and fro in the breeze… On closer examination it becomes a large spider web covered in leftover fog.
The cardinal’s song cuts the air singing from the safety of the cedars. Seagulls fill the sky looking for the sea… or maybe just a parking lot. The small birds of winter flitter here and there looking for breakfast as they chitter and cheep.
Once again the sun has been overcome by the clouds and the slight warmth has succumbed to the mornings chill. The battle continues, sun and clouds, clouds and sun, warmth and chill. A winters morning, but dressed as if it’s summer, in the rocker on the back porch.