Sunday morning

Sunday’s are usually quiet in our house. The kids are rarely awake before noon and Jason is usually busy with something, somewhere, and today he’s plowing the snowy remnants of a blizzard in four different places. It’s so quiet this morning.

I’ll go out to shovel midday, when the sun comes around to the driveway, but for now a cup tea and a blanket feel just right.

The bright sun and snow are making birdwatching particularly entertaining this morning. Both birdfeeders are full with many birds waiting in the branches for their turn to come up to the buffet. A little house sparrow, who’s clearly not interested in waiting, is kicking snow, finding all the dropped seeds. The cardinals and blue jays are perched on snow covered branches as if they’re auditioning for a quintessential New England post card. There’s a flurry of activity but the snow is dampening all sound. And it’s all so quiet.

Blue Fish River, which runs in front of our house, is mostly frozen over. Now that the storm has passed the high tide keeps within the frozen banks and no longer leaks into the road. Several ducks, lay on the snowy banks near the bottom of our driveway, warming themselves in the sun, but surely impatient for Jason to return for coffee break when he will bring them some cracked corn.

It’s beautiful and everything feels like it’s in its right place. I’m happy for a warm house and the window views and for my blanket and my tea. And for it being Sunday morning with no place I need to be other than here.


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