It is a lazy Sunday morning. I step out with the coffee in my hand. The dull red brick feels cool under my bare feet. I slip on my flip-flops and walk out of the patio. I feel my feet sink into the damp, lush grass. The smell of raw grass invades my nostrils. The bright yellow flowers peek out of the verdant green like stars on a pitch black sky. I sip on the potent brew as I walk to the play set where the twins are.
I sit on the little picnic bench and take the scene in. One girl is up on the play deck peering through the telescope. Her one eye is scrunched shut as she takes in the view through the other. Her golden tresses are billowing about her face. I blow her an air kiss and turn my attention to the other. I catch her as she soars above my head using her foot to propel herself in the air. She looks the picture of freedom. Her eyes are wide and a smile is etched playing on her face. Her golden locks are swept back by the wind.
My eyes leave her face as they spot the Dogwood tree in bloom. The delicate white flowers are profuse and provide relief from the green. Birds chirp as they fly in and out of the tree. A red necked robin is pecking at something in the grass. Even as I am mesmerized by the Robin, I spot Ravens descending on the fence. Beyond the fence a family of deer break through the tall grass and walk single file away from our property. I crane my neck as I follow them till my eyes can track them any more.
The squeals from the children break my trance and I turn to them. One is clutching a bunch of wildflowers while the other has heaped a pile of rock before me. I put my empty cup as I join them in pretend play. War whoops abound as we search for buried treasure. I run behind them knowing these pleasures are fleeting.
This is my entry to day eight of Writing 101 at The Daily Post