A Summer Morning
As I sit down to write this morning, my mind feels like a nervous butterfly excited to see all of the flowers, not knowing which one to alight on first.
So much has been happening on our little side of the island: overfull online courses, overlong visa applications, and overloud vuvuzelas punctuating the sentences of our days. When we get a moment, G and I haul out for a coffee, a nibble by the sea, sometimes a relaxing hour or two on the beach. We talk to each other, we spend time with neighbors, we try to soak up what we can of this, possibly our last, summer in Greece for a while.
Outside our garden is growing into a small forest. Just the tomato vines alone resemble small trees, and the fresh tomatoes that are finally ripening, drip juicily down our chins when we pluck them and bite into their warm fleshiness. The cucumber bushes migrate over the ground on small feet and continue to produce more cucumbers than we could possibly eat, and the pepper plants put forth enough little offerings that we are constantly bagging up these goodies and presenting them to those we know. Life is fecund. Life is abundant.
Gazing through my French doors onto the back veranda and the flower garden beyond, my eyes fall on pools of green dappled light, a gift from the fig trees.
Over the past weeks and days, I have had more than my fair share of ideas to share with you. Posts that excite me and I feel would excite you, too. They will come. In their time.
But not this morning.
This morning is about you and me sitting and being.
Look out your window this morning.
Tell me what you see.
I would love to know.
With joy,
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*Living Happiness will be on a new summer schedule, posting only twice per week until the fall. Enjoy your summer!
