All is quiet except for a few birds in the bushes out front. The sun is shining in through the storm door.
Charlie likes to see what’s out there. Even if it’s just a truck in the alley, he barks to let me know it’s there. That something is different.
I love days like this. Fall approaching. Summer slowly coming to an end, but raising its sunny head every few days to remind us that it’s not ready to leave the stage quite yet.
I see trees with leaves that are starting to turn, a bit of red and gold popping through green leaves. It tells me that fall is steadily marching toward us.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. – Dylan Thomas
Charlie just now insisted on going out, so I trailed after him with my camera, a common occurrence.
As I stood there, geese flew overhead. I saw a female cardinal in the distance. A dragonfly up toward the roof. The clematis making a comeback after it slept through the heat of summer.
When you go outside, take in what you see and smell and hear. It’s important to note that nature is constant and yet ever changing.
Here is the female cardinal through my zoom lens, hundreds of feet away. I wonder if she is waiting on the male cardinal to fly in and join her?
Did you know?
“Pairs mate for life, and stay together year-round. Mated pairs sometimes sing together before nesting. During courtship they may also participate in a bonding behavior where the male collects food and brings it to the female, feeding her beak-to-beak.”
So many wonders outside. Zinnias and lemon balm growing in a small crack in the cement. Trees changing colors.
Flowers still blooming, like this salvia, and at the same time turning brown.
Last night I was thumbing through a magazine. The TV was background noise and Charlie was sleeping at the end of the bed in his usual spot.
I turned the page and there was a dog toward the bottom. I zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t a Yorkie, but it had Abi’s face and eyes. I was momentarily stunned.
It was the four month anniversary of losing her and there was her face staring back at me. I was breathless for a time. It had her funny face, her features in all the right places.
I couldn’t stop looking at the image, now seared into my memory. It was like she came back to me for a time. I didn’t want to lose her again.
But then finally I turned the page.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.– Seneca