Mellow

I could have called this 'Observations of a Garage Wall'.

This morning as my husband left for work, I went to the door, as usual, kissed him as usual, stood out on the doorstep, as usual, and then completely forgot to wave. Poor soul.

It would have been nice if we'd made it to the door five minutes earlier, if we'd have time to stop and stare together, nonetheless, as he made his way down the hill in the half-light, I was transfixed by the sky.

This morning at 6.30, the stars were out. Not just out, but sparkling like something from a children's book. The air was just right, the sky was still just a shade too dark to be called a blue, there wasn't a single cloud anywhere and the stars, the stars looked so fat and sparkly and near and magical, spread out perfectly, as if to allow the individual beauty of each one to really hit you, smack, right between the eyes.

Once I remembered I was on a public street, in bare feet and an old dressing gown, I padded back indoors and sat here, at my little desk, in my little corner.

It didn't take long for the light, or the little fluffy clouds to appear; cotton balls dressed in a sherbet pink and for a while I worried that the weather report was wrong - pink morning skies usually mean cold days. It took maybe fifteen minutes more for the world to wake up and my window became a frame for silvery skies, white blue heavens and sun-stroked clouds and plane tracks, as if the light was coming from the ground and bouncing off them with all the joy of a summer day.

Only the white gloss paint on the garage fascia, the eaves if you like, reflected a warm pink glow. Being the sort who can quite easily be transfixed, I nestled in with my mug of coffee and watched as that glow turned slowly to gold, before matching the silver of the sky very briefly, then falling into shadow as the sun rose high.

Now the heavens are a slightly fuzzy baby blue and speak of the best warm weather for late May; never mind that it will really be November next week. I say they speak of it, because I am still in bare feet and snuggled up indoors - certainly not baby anything, but absent minded and charmed by the morning, and decidedly fuzzy and warm.

Have a lovely day.