June 4

This morning the view from my window is as bucolic as a Master's painting. The sky changes from a hazy white blue at the horizon to robin's egg blue at the dome. The wind is hushed leaving the trees gently still along the edge of the lake. The water itself is mirror-like reflecting the various dark and yellow greens of the trees. Algae sits along the edge a copy of the oscillating edge of the banks. The soft scent of lilac fills the air. The sound of arriving Canada geese breaks the silence as they splash down. A pure white snowy egret slowly stalks the shadows near the French pussy willow. While tiny sparrow and finch flit from branch to branch on the nearby birch tree. Cotton wood fluffs drift by and I long for a hammock and the time to lie in the sun.