Especially for the birds.

Its that time of year.  Out with the old and in with the new.  Spring cleaning.  New beginnings.  Nesting.  Creating.

I have been collecting scraps of thread, yarn and fabric all winter long and saving them in this suet container.  It is a wonderful wad of color.   The birds will pluck from it to make their nests and I will be watching and waiting.  Watching and waiting for spring.  The colors will appear in their nests and I will have become a part of their lives.

Good morning.

 

In the morning, I find myself, over and over again - or maybe I find myself anew.  Maybe, each day, I am a different person, just born out of sleep and dreams.  I never tire of the mornings, even when I am tired.  Sleep does not come easily for me but mornings do.  Possibility is alive and percolating, like a morning cup of coffee.  Dark and rich and hot - until the sun rises.  I am usually awake then.  It is rare that the sun rises before I do.  Afterwards, I can sometimes go back to sleep.  I have witnessed the dawn of another day and am content.  I made it this far….