Another Start

I have so much to say I do not even know where to start, so I haven’t.

Today I am forging forward to try to find my voice again as I gaze at my backyard with the towering trees and green grass rolling down to the pond and watch the hummingbirds flit to and fro enjoying our new feeder.  

I soak up the serenity, as my yard is trying to soak up the rainwater from the torrential morning storm.  The humid warmth that follows the rain is sweltering.  Nonetheless, I bask in the quiet morning.

I do not miss the roar of the city, as I prefer the chatter of the cicadas and other bugs that make my trees “talk.”  My niece asked me one morning~”Auntie Lori, why do your trees make noise?  Our trees are quiet.”  Pennsylvania taught me that trees can "talk," and there I learned to love my towering, talking trees.  On her first night, Nikela insisted on cracking the window so she could hear the cacophonous cicadas.

I do not miss the gridlock of traffic either.  The narrow lane that lends home is picture perfect in the morning as we stroll to the bus stop.  Chayse and the neighborhood kids scamper to and fro chasing squirrels or stop to check out a web, discovering the morning beauty of nature.

 New home. Sweet. Home.