A quiet, cloudy autumn morning. The maple leaves are a faded orange; most of them are on the ground. The crepe myrtle’s branches are nearly bare. Trees, gray sky, and damp ground seem slow to wake up and get started with the day. So am I. Maybe a second cup of Folgers will help. Even the water fountain in the container garden sounds like a lullaby. As the nursery rhyme says, “It’s a misty, moisty morning when cloudy was the weather.”
Or, maybe this is only the calm before the storm. Do you ever feel that way–mistrustful of a feeling of peace because you are wondering if other forces are gathering to unleash their fury? In this case, it may be true. I think opposing forces are going to meet somewhere overhead and today we may be pelted by a thunderstorm. Maybe it’ll clear the air and leave us all feeling peppier.
Thursday night I was privileged to go with Jane to an ANA meeting of artists. We watched an accomplished painter demonstrate how he painted a beautiful scenery picture using only a palette knife. It was intriguing. The mantle of being a writer is with me wherever I go. Halfway through the demonstration, a man in the audience turned to me and said, “I’ve thought of a title for a new mystery: Death By Palette Knife.” Hmm. Interesting.
Whatever kind of morning you are waking to, I hope that your day is blessed with many warm and wonderful happenings and that you and I find many opportunities to bless others, even in the midst of a thunderstorm.
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