Emmett is done breakfasting for the moment, his fresh bowl of moist food sampled, ready for him when he returns, now that he is sure of it.
The furnace clicks off after smoothing out the early morning chill.
The shades are up, inviting the gray light that creeps color into the ribbons on my door, the pens in my cup.
Birds warble far away, filtered by thin walls, thin glass.
The day opens. I will not rush to fill it. I will allow the quiet. And breathe.
Mar 08, 2020 @ 09:24:03
Beautiful.
Mar 08, 2020 @ 10:43:04
💋
Mar 08, 2020 @ 12:51:22
This goes so beautifully with Dave’s post today – we are all in a serious learning process…. learning to slow down, to breathe, and breathe once more – and feel the quiet, before breathing again!
Mar 09, 2020 @ 06:55:33
It’s something I have to keep remembering.
Mar 09, 2020 @ 04:33:44
You paint such a lovely picture, Sandy, so cozy. As I sit here in front of the fire and seek to drive away my own chill, I vow to join you in your quest to just breathe and be.💕
Mar 09, 2020 @ 06:54:51
Amen, sister
Mar 09, 2020 @ 14:45:24
I would very much like to switch days with you. The only quiet I get is when I’m hollering at my kid “be quiet!” Strangely, it does not have the desired effect when you scream it like that.
Mar 10, 2020 @ 13:23:29
Odd, that.
Mar 11, 2020 @ 06:43:51
Being still and allowing the quiet of nature is very healing. Animals know what we have long ago forgotten or simply do not practice much anymore in this busy world.
Mar 12, 2020 @ 01:44:26
Yes!