Author’s Note: This is the third in a series of pieces inspired by or reflective of my painted work. Some of my contemplations will lead me to the work of others. Some will feature mine alone. Some will do both. I hope you enjoy all of them.
I grabbed my first cup of joe, found my favorite window seat, and waited for my friend, New Day, to come greet me. Today, Sun joined our little soirée, rising to stretch and express its full beauty and light up my garden.
With that crock of liquid gold cradled in my hand, the sun in my face, I was ready to join my friends in the garden. I was not the only one taking a seat. No, sir. There was a breakfast club of birds and squirrels. Why even a rabbit wiggled his ears and munched leisurely in my garden. (Oh, no!)
“There’s something about that first sip of coffee,” I told them.
You know, when your lips embrace that first sip, and that warm steamy mocha touches those taste buds. That’s when you know the world is right.
The regulars were waiting for us, the elders: my friends, The Oaks. They’ve been hosting this Club forever. Man, they’re old. In fact, they’re now in their second millennium of welcoming their guests. They’ve set the table to host my other friends — the Mosses, the Woodlands, the Ferns, and the Hostas. They’ve made room for the younger generation, the Rhodies, and the Dogwoods. “After all,” the Oaks whispered, “every garden needs diversity, different colors, different shapes and sizes, and species”.
In the spring we open the party to some flowers. They’re such show-offs. They dot the wood’s edge with wonderful flora and nectar, steal the show, just for a little while. And the party gets bigger. The Bees come. My world is good.
My friends spread their limbs to shelter and ground me. With all their quiet beauty, they teach me the value of peace and appreciation for change. I have such a wealth of friends.
Maybe I’ll paint their beauty today.