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.

Mother Nature toys with us. The sky is cloudy for a while, filled with white clouds which carry no rain, then the sun appears. I hold off my cheers. I know better. Sure enough, the clouds return while the sun waits in the wings, but she will soon take another turn and reappear. Right now it is 79°.

I have a few chores today. The dog fur tumbleweeds are back or maybe they never left. They are everywhere downstairs. I could make a black and white science fiction movie with the tumbleweeds having teeth and chasing me down the hall to attack. I can imagine them chomping at my heels.

This morning I grocery shopped. It will be delivered this afternoon. I did forget a few things, but they are extras not usually on my list. Plantains and strawberries came to mind later.

When I was a kid, I loved watermelon on a hot day. My father would cut it into slices. When I was really young, the juice often ran down my arms. It made red lines. My sister wondered why we don’t have watermelon everywhere. We all spit out the seeds. Sometimes it was a contest to see who could spit the furthest. I never won. It was the same with cherry pits. I also never won those contests either.

When I was a teacher, I used to travel every summer. Mostly I went to Europe. I’d be gone five or six weeks. I always ended my trips with a few days in London. I’d stay mostly in hostels. I traveled on the cheap. I carried a Let’s Go Europe book with all the ways to save money like having a drink at a bar with free food. I’d buy bread and tomatoes and cold cuts to make sandwiches. I bought mustard paste and kept it in my backpack. I stayed at the former Olympic dorms in Helsinki. In other places I stayed in university housing as students were gone for the holidays. I never stayed in a hotel. I took trains and busses at night and slept and saved a little money. Usually I even came home with a little money left over.

Now, of course, when I travel, I don’t backpack, and I stay in hotels. I eat in restaurants. I rent a car. I live the good life.