I am greeting you with butterflies and sunshine, borrowed from yesterday when I took my little camera and stood beside the pinkness of a stand of self-seeding and self-tending prairie coneflowers.
I know these sturdy flowers draw so many butterflies. Conveniently for me, a butterfly couple flittered into camera range for me to photograph. They didn't seem to know, or care, that I was there.
It was mid-day in the sort of day in which this human being loves to stand and feel the glory of it all. But then soon after, almost in an instant, darkness swallowed up the sun. The winds kicked up and mixed a brew of thunder, lightning and an inch of rain in less than 30 minutes. Last night a weather man predicted that could also be the case today
For now, however, I enjoy what I can see and feel. The eastern sky at dawn is polished with the same fine sheen I have come to expect of summer mornings in this valley.
My big dog Mick and I are indulging in our early morning walk. We measure our steps slowly, and we take our time. It is quiet all around, in the sky and in the trees and on the ground... There are no bird songs, no breezes, no traffic sounds from the curving, hilly road that meanders past our woodland...
We are draped with gentle dampness from the standard morning mist, rising blue to merge into the blue of sky.The western sky behind us is bedecked with clouds. Except that they are white instead of red, the cloud formations bring to mind the mesas Bob and I enjoyed in Wyoming during our wandering Western trips
As bright and sunny as this morning is, I know the weather man could be on cue; this day could turn to rain, like yesterday.
But this is the morning of my birthday; I am 74. And I will not waste my time with worry.
I will absorb the here and now, and I will have a happy day all day, no matter what the weather opts to do.