And it is, in the morning, too. I think today will be the last morning I drink iced coffee. Max, the dog, keeps my spot warm on the couch, and I do the same for him. It's a lovely morning for a kitty or two on the lap, especially if they are warmed by eating unicorn meat.
The dogwoods are turning purple, and have sprouted red berries. A neighbor has cut down the gigantic boxwood that was growing onto the sidewalk, freeing Max and I from having to walk around it. Uncut grasses wave wheaty heads. The grass is still green, but it's only a matter of time.
The Greek Festival is this weekend in this small valley, and I am a devotee of their food, so I am going.
The fan in the window brings early morning sounds in with the air. Someone, somewhere is using an air hammer. I miss bird song, in this apartment. I have a contingent that roosts above my front door, scattering nest material every morning, but they don't sing much. They love the red impatiens that I planted in the spring, and it has been nipped down to the ground by the birds. However, they do not like begonias or vinca, so they are safe.
I spent some time yesterday with a Crape Myrtle. I loved touching it's bark. I had 5 Crape Myrtles at the Old House; it was a favorite tree of my Dad's. There is always something so good about a tree.
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