My Take
DiVoran Lites
We have a friend who calls himself a hedonist. I think that means pleasure seeker. I suppose I must be one too. It’s certainly a pleasure in the afternoon after my nap to brew a cup of coffee (with dark chocolate powder added), cut a California navel into triangular slices and take a book to the back porch to read.
Spring days are so fantastic. When I finished my refreshments, I put my book down to just sit and be for a while. Almost immediately, I became aware of what was going on around me. Everything I heard and saw seemed sharp and clear.
I heard:
hammering as if someone were putting on a new roof.
a rooster crowing
an airplane humming over,
our calico cat chattering at a green anole lizard on the screen
a cardinal too-too-tooted his spring song.
Then the AC came on and I couldn’t hear anything else. Civilization encroaching, thank the Lord for it!
As I looked around the yard, I saw:
yellow, orange and purple flowers, swaying against the fence
dried weeds on the other side that looked like fluffy ostrich feathers,
a brand new sunflower seeking the sun,
Close up I spied a:
pothos growing in a pot
cat in a basket
Chinese Tallow tree, with Florida ferns growing under it,
green garden wagon with balloon tires (one is flat),
stool made from an overturned porcelain pot with a red rubber stepping stone for a seat.
Closer yet:
I touched the binoculars,
picked up the napkin basket,
fingered the salt shaker,
smelled the orange peels on a small white plate,
moved the driftwood I use for a book prop,
and smoothed my hand over the slick cover of the large print book.
Does all that make me a hedonist? See how self-indulgent I am? I not only took the time to jot all that down, I enticed you to take the time to read it too, (I hope). If yes, thank you. Your company pleases me very much.
Old Things R New 