Mornings

Some mornings you wake up and the world invites you to a new and exciting day and sometimes you have to force yourself to ease one leg after the other out from beneath the covers. This week has been a combination of both. The coldest summer week ever recorded for this area was not only damp, grey and cold but a catalyst for dampening one’s spirits as well. Every joint in my body has been complaining and I’ve even had to light the fire to take the chill off my usually cozy room. But this morning sunshine beamed in the window and promise of a warmer day has me planning to clean and mow.

   Regardless of the weather I am fortunate that in this active household there is always something to amuse or entertain me. One would be the newest member of our family a grey tabby cat—barely beyond kitten stage. I have a bird feeder right outside my window and watching small, big, colourful, drab feathered creatures arrive, eat and leave is one of my small pleasures. I have one I call The Phantom—it is a grackle but one with character. One side of its face is off-white! The Doctor, the cat, (named by the children as per Doctor Who) is poorly named and should be known as The Hunter. She is a great catcher of mice. However, she has not quite reasoned the concept that there is a pane of glass between her and the feeder. At least once a week out of the corner of my eye, I spot her slinking along the tiles, ears tight to her skull eyeing birds at the feeder. Slowly she lifts one foot after the other along the floor careful to get onto the sofa out of the sight of her prey. I watch with a smile as she stalks, her fur dancing as her body quivers in anticipation. Then WHAM she attacks and bangs right into the glass. The blue jays have figured this out and I’m sure they are smiling too.

   This morning was so cold my regular visitor to the pond, a great blue heron, was hunkered down shivering. All I can say is I’m happy I have fleecy slipper to keep my feet warm.