Summer Song


There is something magical about porch sitting, and it really doesn’t matter whose porch I am on, they are all enchanted to me. Today the carpet of grass is silver with dew, the wet dirt is deep red from summer rain.  The green extends to the edge of a forest. The morning light is peeking out over the tops of the trees, filtering down to the ground in rays of gold.  Blue sky and wispy white clouds await the day. It will be a hot one, but in the early hours it is cool and clear and beautiful.

From the porch swing, I see an ebony fence standing guard over horses, who frolic in the cool of the morning.  Their manes flow and they bring a smile to my face. A cat walks the fence like a balance beam, then sits lazily to wash paws.  The day is just waking up. The trees stretch their arms to the sky as if they are crawling out of bed too.  Their leaves are still.  They are waiting, preparing for the heat to come later on.  Water drips from their leaves as last night’s rain and the morning dew swirl together for a dive into the grass.  A young deer moves silently on the edge of the wood.  She is cautiously nibbling the freshly dressed salad for her breakfast. When she has had her fill, she disappears like a whisper, her white tail bounding through the shadows.

A chickadee comes for a visit.  Sitting on the fence, he sings me his morning song.  It is a lovely solo.  Once he has finished he flits away to the next place he can grace with song. Another bird chimes in louder and now they sound as if they are having a singing competition.  They have awakened the others.  There are chirps and screeches and caws.  It is a concert.  The birds are singing in stereo all around me. Even the babies in the eaves around the corner join in.  They don’t know the song yet, they only know they are hungry. Their mom brings food to hush their immature chorus.  A blue bird is dancing from tree to tree making her way to the nest, followed by her bright blue husband. A hummer hovers just past the porch to make his presence known and add his harmony to the refrain. The bees join in, suspended in the air nearby, buzzing and whirring their own parts.

I swing on the back porch of my friends, enjoying Summer Song.

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