The view from Sunday morning is like a nice cup of Cinnamon Sunset tea.
Nothing outside is moving yet. As if the world is a tea bag, steeping in possibilities, it waits for perfection.
The cold snap this week caused pigments in the leaves to stir, and hints of yellow and gold are starting to emerge. And even as the trees are still, yet changing, my hot water is turning a rich color as the flavors seep through my teabag.
There are times when playful neighborhood squirrels cause the metal mobile sculpture outside my window to sway on its fulcrum, but not in this present moment. So is the case with my peaceful mug. It is waiting. It is patient. But it has the capacity to awaken my tastebuds and play.
The cul-de-sac garages are still closed as my neighbors are tucked warmly in their homes.
I reach for my tea. The warmth of the cup feels good on my hands. The smell of cinnamon releases its intoxicating aroma as I take morning’s first sip.
There is nothing but peace in this moment.
And it is as if time stands still for
Paula Estelle Jackson 10-27-2019
HUMOR-IST (is that a word?) I can find and expel (the word expel makes me think of passing gas) humor in most moments of life