|My outdoor retreat in disguise.|
The birds are few and the ones that come to the feeder are hungry and stay, hovering, fighting off newcomers. The feeder was emptied while I was gone and though it's full now, the regulars have found other places to eat.
Next week will find me minding the toddlers again until Friday when I return to my son's and the final week of his wife's absence. She's been studying yoga in India for the month of February, hoping to bring what she's learned back to her own studio. Meanwhile, my oldest son is journeying through Southeast Asia. It's been a month of transition, of travel, of reviving old skills. I've loved every minute of my time with my younger son and his two children.
The cottage is quiet. The refrigerator hums, the clock ticks. The sun slips in through the window and naps on the floor. The TV is silent, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Now and then I turn it on for the news and to watch Downton Abbey on a Sunday evening. The rest of the time the silence soothes me. I watch the sun rise and the sun set, putter at my daily tasks, spend as much time as possible out of doors and snuggle under my down quilt when the day is done. It's an introvert's dream life.
|A friend once told me I was a tree in another life. I believe him.|