Pure Bliss

I never thought I’d find my bliss sitting on the back porch of a rental house in Leeds, Alabama, yet here I sit in the golden hour on a late Friday afternoon perfectly content in my solitude. But I’m not really alone. Cue rush hour at the bird feeder—it’s organized chaos as they all take turns, diving in from worlds unseen to take a morsel and disappear again to the trees. The trees give themselves gracefully to the breeze that carry the birds’ song...I can hear a hundred different melodies, my heart is full.

Carpenter bees, trying to exploit weakness in the fence hover behind me, the dog brings me one of her balls to throw—her energy is limitless. A red winged blackbird I have named, Poe, sits high atop a leland cypress whistling loudly before leaving for a nearby copse of trees. The breeze picks up, I close my eyes...Suddenly, the neighbor’s surround sound thunders to life, signaling an end to my reverie.

Y’all have a good weekend.