The hyacinth bean vines are beginning to bloom. Yesterday I saw a hummingbird buzz in and sit at the very top of this one. It was emerald green and gauzy wings in the sunlight as it flew away into the depths of the stone garden.
The day unwinds before me, an open tablet for the most part.
I love the silence, the peacefulness, of the normal humming that is one’s house.
I am so tuned in to the sound of the air conditioning coming on and going off. The whisper sounds of the ceiling fans.
The angel’s trumpet blooms are slowly opening. Every year I think of them as women’s long skirts. The dainty edges swirling as the lady dances.
There is a heartbeat to the hot dog days of summer. A season marching forward toward the cooling respite of fall.