Though it’s not early, it is early for my writing. I typically write in the afternoon or evening. It’s 9 am on a Sunday. I’ll log off soon to go to mass virtually.The air is still and gray outside. I’m ready to build a fire in the fireplace, though I have on short sleeves and birkenstocks. I could just put on a sweatshirt and socks, but I’m thinking the glow of a fire would be nice to warm the space. Light and heat beckon me. There is so much on the mind. How it will all get done. I’m feeling a weight as the week begins. A cup of coffee might help. Outside I can see my neighbor has completed his daily walk.The birds are bobbing near him. As I began this, and now as I end, the birds seem to be busy, and that they too want to nestle down for the chilly day. They are not chirping much. This could be a sign it’s a good day for staying in.
Published by kflockhart
I've enjoyed writing since the first grade, since my aunt gave me a journal so long ago to write in. Now I write to enjoy the moments. I write to stretch and share my thoughts. I write to connect and find calm. Raising three kids, three rabbits and two cats, with a school social work career, I need the daily refuge writing offers. The simple reflections allow for an abundance of memories to the hurried pace of life. View more posts