Posted tagged ‘night time’

“Every morning a new sun greets us and our new life begins.”

August 13, 2015

Gracie and I are out on the deck. She is sleeping in the shade of the oak and pine trees. It isn’t quiet. Inside my house Roseanne and Lee are cleaning, and I can hear the vacuum and conversations in Portuguese. My next door neighbor is back from Brazil. I can hear her yelling at her kids, but she too speaks Portuguese so I have no idea what the kids are doing. The ever-present birds fly in and out. They eat at the feeders and wait in line to use the fountain as a bird bath. Gracie thinks it’s a water fountain. All of us appreciate it. The day is lovely, warm in the sun but cool with a nice breeze in the shade. I am in the perfect spot.

Yesterday morning I was up early. When I went to get the papers, I could feel, hear and smell the morning. That probably sounds strange, but I swear early mornings are different. It doesn’t matter where you are. Ground fog rises in the morning and lingers until the sun holds sway. Birds sing louder than during any other part of day. On city streets, outside the small cafes, sidewalks are swept and chairs and tables are arranged. Some places serve eggs and bacon but others serve cold cuts, rolls and cheese. The bread is always fresh, soft. In other places the smell of wood burning fills the air as breakfast is cooked over the flames. Smoke curls above the fires. There are fewer people out and about in the early mornings. They always look a bit sleepy to me as if they have yet to find the day.

I am also drawn to the night. I love staying up late and being the only one still awake. The houses around me are dark except for the one behind me. He leaves his back light on. I think of him as the unpleasant neighbor. If Gracie barks more than three times, he yells which makes her bark more. He plays his country music so loud on Saturdays I have to go inside the house for a bit of peace. I don’t yell, one in the neighborhood is enough.

Last night I went outside to try to see the meteors. I was barefoot and walked tentatively as I didn’t turn on the light. My feet got wet on the grass, but I avoided the pitfalls and made it to the road without incident. I stayed for about 40 minutes, saw only two, got discouraged and went inside.

“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”

August 1, 2010

It was a wonderful night for sleeping, even Gracie felt the need to cuddle. The morning is still a bit cool, despite the sun. Mr. and Mrs. Oriole dropped by for some of the jelly I had just put into the feeder. Both were singing. I have to fill the seed feeders when I’m done here.

It’s dinner and a movie night. The menu is set but not the film. I’ll have to go through and find something the whole crowd will enjoy. I’m leaning toward M.A.S.H.

The early mornings and the late nights are my favorite times of the day. Sunday mornings are the best of all mornings. Not a soul stirs, not a car moves. The only sounds are the birds singing and the rustling of leaves as squirrels jump from branch to branch. I swivel my head from paper to yard to catch sight of the bird whose song I hear. This morning it was the oriole. I watched him jump from branch to branch, each branch closer to the jelly feeder. I didn’t move for fear of scaring him. Finally, he alighted and had breakfast. The Mrs. followed. My fountain water is low so it makes a gentle sound. The day is opening quietly and slowly.

At night, I sit outside on the deck. The darkness is broken only by the moon and the three tulip solar lights shining from flower pots. Gracie sits beside me, and I pat her as I sit there. If I stand at the deck rail, I can see fireflies, and the flower shaped lights I placed in the yard. Their bulbs are small so each casts only a singular path of light, and they barely break through the darkness. The late nights are quiet. My neighbors’ houses are all dark. I relish this time almost more than any other.