morning dew

Immediately after rolling out of the sack on Saturday morning, I opened our front door and was greeted by eutopian weather. Not too hot, not too cold. It rained overnight. A mild breeze pushed it's way through the screen. I filled my lungs with a long draw or two of the morning's perfect air. Aaaah...

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There was a soggy newspaper smack-dab in the middle of the driveway. Hmmm, that would be the spanish one that I never read. It usually has a tacky hoochie-momma on the front cover. No thanks; I'll take it to the recycling bin right away.

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Normally, I don't go anywhere without socks and shoes, but right now, I'll fetch the newspaper just as I am. Bedhead, pj's (shorts) and I probably have crusty eyes, but who cares. Tiptoeing slowly, I feel every little twig and pebble under my sensitive city-boy feet. I'm sure I look ridiculous, but nobody's out to take notice.

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Yup. I was right, and the newspaper is thoroughly drenched! It's remarkably heavy for it's size. That's all the water of course. Next, I yank the few sprouts emerging from the roots of our honey locust. Man, these weeds don't ever quit! The lawn needs cutting, but right now, I just enjoy the cool wetness of the incredibly soft, fine fescue. It will be pure pleasure as long as I watch where I step, because my eyes spy some robust thistle, waiting for an ambush. Not today Spike, I see you!

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I take a moment to remember those who I said I would pray for. It appears that the flowers this morning shed tears of sympathy. The tears of my friends are real. God knows their need and I trust Him, however He chooses to answer.

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The wet grass and gentle breeze was nice, but as I wipe my feet inside the front door I notice someone is toasting cinnamon bread. That's worthy of another deep breath!