Summer's Serenity
Mid-morning finds me on the porch of a tiny house, sipping a cup of coffee, listening to the sounds of birds chirping in the surrounding trees. The air is slightly cool, the play of light and shadows rippling with a small, merciful breeze. It's quiet here, the constant coos, twitters and cackles of winged creatures and the skittering of small animals and insects the only noise. Underneath them, the rustle of the breeze, the occasional rumble of an engine passing by on the road beyond, the whirr of the air conditioner in the adjoining shed. The cottage in front of the house sits silent; a white bunny with gray ears hops round in a patch of sunlight, a red-headed woodpecker lands on a hanging bird feeder - then flits from tree to tree - throat-calls low and full. The bells of a nearby church ring the gongs of the hour: 10 times the chimes resound. A sense of echoing peace and calm resides here, along with the birds and flowers, the squirrels and copses of trees, nature in multitude. ...