A precisely 5:55 a.m. I was awakened by the sound of trash cans rolling to the curb. This was followed soon after by the earth shaking rumbling of the trash man on his bi-weekly run. We are not in Kansas anymore Dorothy. And while I wouldn't call our postage stamp in paradise an urban jungle it most definitely is not the country. There is street noise, construction noise and boat noise. I never noticed that before. At the lake there is the occasional crunch of tires on gravel and the honking of geese announcing their arrival in the cove.
It appears I have some readjusting to do. And a lot of work. The shrubs around our house have multiplied beyond belief. The bougainvillea in the back will soon be crawling up the neighbor's house and in their back door. The remaining shrubbery is unruly and disheveled. It is all the result of warm tropical rain and no one minding the store. I thought we had a yard man? He was one of the team. He was the point guard. I am thinking he may be riding the bench soon.
The house is relatively clean and dust free. For that I am eternally grateful. I can spend my day unpacking, catching up on laundry and reacquainting myself with the sights and sounds of home, my southern home. I'm glad to be here. I am privileged and honored to call two beautiful places home. But I'm afraid I left my heart behind, with the honking geese, in the peace and quiet of the country.
1 comment:
I think your heart will find you soon enough. No more geese up here only salt, slush, and sliding around the wet roads :)
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