Magnificent sunrise, all golden and peach. Fitz Bew ringing from the fence along the long lawn, where the Willow Flycatcher hides his nest, while the Cardinal tunes up his whistle, and a sleepy Yellow Warbler sweetens the morning, sweet, sweet, sweeter sweet.
The air IS sweet, as pure and clean and cool as if this little farm was perched atop a mountain way up in the Dacks. Dew drips from the eaves of the sitting porch, each crystal droplet lit on fire by the glow of the rising sun.
Time to tidy up the ravages of yesterday and get some writing done. If breakdowns of both tractor and barn cleaner yesterday are anything to go by, time to produce and process the Farm Side may be in short supply this week.
Get busy, get busy.
The screen door swings and slaps the wall, whine, bam, slam, as the young men head off to their jobs. Our boy is back in the 518 for a couple of weeks, as his other job in DC shut down for a bit.
It is an unfamiliar but delightful thing to have him here, even for a little while...we don't see him enough for sure.
And check out this addition to my garden rock collection. It is a NYC cobblestone, possibly from as early as the 1700s,
It certainly is at least very early, as it was found 7 feet down, under a waterfront street in Manhattan. I am excited to have it, and to learn that it was placed small-side-up, rather than laying flat as you might expect.
Just imagine the stories this chunk of granite could tell... What famous people might have walked over it, how many horses and wagons and barrels of beer may have rumbled over it and its neighbors? No one could know but.....