The morning is just about perfect. The clouds are sharing. The sun is bright. Everything is quiet. My house still holds the coolness from last night. The high today will be 80°. We’re just about there already.

Today I will finish my deck preparation. I need to clean off the furniture and hang up the decorations. I have one chair and a small table in the cellar which will go on the deck. I need to open the umbrellas. I’m thinking dinner on the deck.

I take time now. I can do or not do whatever I want. I can sit outside and listen to the birds and do nothing else or I can clean the house, one room at a time. I have learned to slow down, to ignore dust so thick I could write a novel on its surface. Even my vacuum sometimes gets dusty.

When I was a kid, my world was filled with wonder. Fireflies lit up the field below my house. I could hear the grasshoppers. I’d run through the tall, brown grass and watch them jump high in front of me. Wild blueberries ripened untended on the bushes. Uptown was filled with the aroma of bread baking. It sweetened the air. In front of the fish market, I could smell the wares, fish on ice and lobsters in the window. I watch spiders weave their webs. I found spiders’ webs marvels. I loved the smell of wood burning. Fresh cooked corn lathered with butter and a bit of salt was perfection. Every day seemed to bring a bit of wonder.

As I grew older, I lost touch with wonder. My life revolved around friends and school and weekends. I didn’t notice what was around me.

Living in Ghana brought back the wonder. It was a whole new world filled with so many new sights and sounds and smells and tastes that every day was jaw dropping, filled with the joy of living in such a remarkable place. I loved the rooster greeting the morning. I loved walking around town and shopping in the market. Nothing was ever commonplace, even taking a shower in the cold water at night.

Since my retirement, I have again found the wonder, the enchantment, of every day. I love the morning songs of birds and fog over the river before the sun is high. I check on my flowers every day. I have no set routine. I never mind staying home. I can play the ukulele. I had the time to learn. I love waking up every morning and looking forward to the day.

This entry was posted on June 30, 2025 at 11:56 am and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.