Don't Miss the Morning

     It's summer time, a time to sweat and complain, a time to rush into the AC and off baking parking lots, a time to cherish the rain and gripe about its frequent occurrence. It's just summer time, and as I drove to the shop, I sped past colorful shiny reflections in still ponds, bursting bushes laden with pink and white crepe myrtles, deep green clumps of trees and thick grasses, and I really didn't see them for what they were until a little bird in the big, green oak outside the shop started a trill that caught my ear. I was pulling the blue recycle bin off the curb to the front of the building and getting ready to open the big garage doors for business when it stopped me in my tracks. I looked at the incredible blue sky and  a white wisp of a cloud, I breathed in the coolest air of a long, hot day and felt its calm. I stopped and stared at the pink laden myrtles by the road, and said a prayer of thanksgiving for another beautiful day of life. Yes, it's summer time, a time to sweat and complain, but while you are at it, don't miss the morning.

Peace. Love, Linda