The cows are on the move. Must be their dinner time. The songbirds are ruckus-bringing, the pond frogs loudly adding to the beautiful din that is a Georgia spring evening. The neighbor’s chickens industriously scratch the dust looking for a bite- quite the little busybodies.
Margaret, our resident road-hound, decides to stop by for a visit. She’s quite the socialite. Her real name is Zoey, but she’s a sweet old thing so “Margaret” suits her better. Isn’t it horrible how people don’t even know what to name their own animals? ;) She is currently melting us with her mournful eyes, wildly wagging tail, and desperate paw put on my knee in hopes of a patting.
Charcoal smoke is wafting from the backyard where our dinner is cooking…smells so good it almost makes me want to leave the front porch to feast. Skipp is in the rocking chair next to mine reading a fitness magazine, drinking a mason jar full of sweet tea (sweetened with stevia). You’d think we were in the rural south or something. :)
This pleasantly languid evening is a welcomed rest. We’re both a bit sun-drunk…it was the first pretty day we’ve been able to dust off the kayaks and enjoy some lake-time. But hours in the sun have definitely taken a toll on our virgin winter skin, not to mention my underused paddling muscles! A quiet night at home, a porch sit, and a rich sunset are exactly what our tired, pink selves need.
Quiet, slow, nature-filled moments are my favorite. It’s not lazy to give in to call of the rocking chair. It’s a form of gratitude; stopping to enjoy the blessings we’ve been given….savoring the front porch view.