What a delightful morning! It is 67° with a strong breeze. I can hear the leaves brushing against each other as their branches sway. The sky is a Crayola blue, cornflower. The sun is warm. It is a day to enjoy, to embrace.

Today is a day for the senses, for sounds and smells and sights. That’s a bit of alliteration to start your morning.

A crowing rooster is a favorite sound of mine. The first time I heard one in real life was in Ghana. He crowed from my backyard. I listened then fell back to sleep. After that, I listened for him every early morning. When I returned to Ghana forty years later, a rooster crowed outside my hotel window. I smiled at the familiar sound. He made me feel at home.

During my live-in with a Ghanaian family, a part of my Peace Corps training, my room was off the balcony. Below the balcony was a small mosque. Just before sunrise, the muezzin sang the Fajr, the call to prayer. It was beautiful. I didn’t know what it was so I asked. My sister explained. After that, I sort of woke up when the prayer was sung. I listened then went back to sleep. Where I lived in Ghana had no mosque close. I missed the sound. The next time I heard a call to prayer was in Marrakech. I was sitting on the roof of my riad when I heard the call. I could see the minaret from my roof. All the memories came back.

The sunsets and the sunrises are often riots of color of reds and purples, oranges and pink. The colors are reflected on the trees, and the branches are silhouettes against the sky. The colors of fall here in New England are vibrant. The leaves turn red and yellow and orange. The maple trees turn such a vibrant blaze of red that I always stop to look. I am amazed, every year, every autumn.

The smells of evergreen and of cookies baking are Christmas to me. The smell of turkey roasting is Thanksgiving and Christmas, fancy dinners to celebrate the days. The smell of wood charcoal burning is Ghana. Every morning fires were lit to cook breakfast, mine included. I could smell the sweetness of the burning wood. When I bought a charcoal grill, I always used wood charcoal, never briquettes.

I have the beginnings of a summer cold. I skipped today’s afternoon concert and am waiting before I decide whether or not to go the 5:30 concert. Tomorrow we have a barbecue before practice, and I’d like to feel good to go.

I started with alliteration and am ending with an oxymoron, summer cold.

This entry was posted on August 18, 2025 at 1:10 pm 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.