Happy Father's Day to all you fathers out there.
It's a great day here today. I'm relishing the peaceful morning on my front porch hide-away. I brought a book out, but haven't even opened it. I left my computer inside for the first cup of coffee and just enjoyed my day. It was so wonderful to look and listen and breath in all the spring-time life around me. Then when I went in to fill my coffee cup, I couldn't resist. I had to bring my computer out and share with the world all the wonder around me.
My favorite view this morning is to the east of me.
As I look that direction, right up near me, on the porch itself, is my white wicker loveseat. Joe splurged last summer. That and two chairs were my Mother's Day/Birthday presents. I love, love, love them.
I also see the beautiful planter that my friend, Lana, gave me for my birthday this year. It's filled with Laura Bush Petunias which are a bright and happy, almost glowing shade of pink. There is also a contrasting purplish plant for contrast, of which I've forgotten the name.
Peaking through the rungs of the porch railing is the topmost branches of my climbing rose which started blooming this week. It blooms deep red, but not deep in a puplish way, just a pure deep red. can see three big blooms peaking over the floor of the porch. By the end of summer, it will be twined in amongst all that edge of the railing and tantalizing us with it's blooms and fragrance all around that white wicker loveseat. It hasn't yet poked at anyone with it's thorns, but if it gets bigger yet than it did last year, it might be a problem. I'm waiting to see if I have to move it eventually.
Further out from the porch, across the lawn at the south-east edge of our house, I see the wooden bench Joe made a few years ago. It's sitting cozily between and beneath two lilacs.
Just past that is a mound of rhubarb which I love so well this time of year. Then I see two more lilacs. There is actually a third, but it met a sad fate last year with the lawn mower and so is still recovering. The little teeny, tiny bit of it that is just showing above the lawn is not one of the glorious things about the east facing view.
But continuing with the good and wonderful view, we have a poplar at that edge of the property that must have had it's top knocked off before we moved here, when it was just a baby. It has always grown full and round and very un-poplarish. There are about six or eight branches that branch out at about three feet. From there on up it is very round and pretty.
So on to the best part of the view. Imagine with me, if you will. I look out and in the periphery of my left side, I see the eaves of the house. And just below that, is the green and rounded top of my nearest lilac. These remain in the near periphery only. They are not the highlight of my view, but create the left edge frame. Just further out, but still in the yard, at the right edge of the view, creating a frame all along that side, is that round and glittering green poplar, with the morning sky showing through behind it.
Now continue with me, out past those two near edges, in the middle of the view, out across the waving grass of the CRP field perhaps 100 yards, is a fenceline that marks the neighbor's pasture. And beyond that, grazing peacefully, stand about fifteen mother cows and their calves. Some are milling about. Some are standing still, with heads down, eating their fill of the spring pasture greens. Some are lying down quietly ruminating on the morning loveliness.
As I gaze out at this, there is playing in the background, the gentle sound of the morning breeze, filtering through the leaves of the poplars. The sunlight is glinting off these leaves as they sway in the wind.
The birds are twittering.
In the foreground, across my lawn and flower beds are scattered my little flock of chickens. Periodically, one of the roosters will crow. There is a gentle clucking here and there.
Ah. Idyllic.
OK, truthfully, as I was writing that last part about the chickens, one of the smaller roosters must have approached one of the hens too closely or been standing in the wrong spot or something becasue there broke out a huge rooster squabble, fluttering of wings and screeching and a brief attack, until the interloper remembered his place in the pecking order.
It wasn't at all peaceful.
It was such a funny backdrop to the quiet morning scene I had just finished describing that I had to tell you about it.
Haha! I heard another ruckus just now. I looked out to see our two smallish roosters chasing one of the hens. They were running around all over the front yard squawking. The chase was on. Then, with the heroic music in the background, imagine please the drum roll, dunt-du-du-DAAAAA! The big white leghorn rooster we call Foghorn, the hero of this tale, noticed the altercation. He came running to the aid of the damsel. His wings were spread out all a-flutter. His one thought, the protection of his girl from the unwanted attention.
Ok, well, maybe that's too romanticized, too. Probably he was just thinking, "Get away from her, you upstart. She is mine. I'm the only one who can chase her in that way."
Happy morning, everyone!
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