The morning is too beautiful…

I sit in my backyard this morning,

Birds sing, the morning sun shines through dark branches and golden leaves, the wheelbarrow sits ready, clipped grass grows green.

A book on my lap, hot coffee waiting on my left, very soft breeze brushing the whiskers on my cheek, A lone squirrel lopes across the top of our fence, tail telegraphing.

The morning just now is too beautiful for anything except to experience, to sink into, to be.

And so…