The air is cool, sweatshirt weather.
Standing at my door, I hear a bird, just one, I think. If there are more, they
are polite and don’t interrupt one another. Then an angry crow tells everybody
to be quiet. A nearby air conditioning unit is laboring, but my open door keeps
the apartment cool this morning, and it’s quieter. The breeze rustles the
leaves and pushes the clouds along. The sky is a dingy gray, but now and then
some blue appears, and the sun pops out and the sky seems to be clearing, until
it fills with clouds again.
Nature can’t decide what to do this Sunday.
And neither can I. But the cool air, the breeze, the birds and a cup of coffee
give the day a promising start.
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