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| Not my yard! |
I love the month of June.
If it were possible – my dream would be to live in a place where every day takes place in the first week of June.
The weather is still perfect. It’s not too hot – but warm enough for swimming. The gardens are still perfect and most everything is green, lush and in bloom. The lawns are still perfect. The grass is still green and not yet stressed to turn brown.
Perhaps we have misunderstood the scientists of the world – perhaps this is the purpose of global warming – to make every day of the year feel like the first week in June.
I doubt it.
But today is perfect. A wonderful morning to sit out on the back deck by the pool and look out over the gardens under the patio umbrella as the mid-seventies breeze blows across the skin.
Man the coffee tastes good on a morning like this. It’s a real shame I quit smoking.
But to be honest, had I not quit smoking, the gardens would not be quite so perfect, nor the grass be so perfectly green and trim. It seems smoking was the root cause of my procrastinating ways.
Today every muscle in my body aches. The blisters on my fingers have broken open and are sore, and the Motrin I took this morning is just now starting to melt some of the aches away as it mixes with the mocha flavored Kailua in my piping hot cup of coffee.
My faithful black lab Suzy is in her own paradise now – stretched out on the deck in the sunshine enjoying the breeze. She’s dreaming about something – likely lying on a deck in the sunshine like this in a breeze like this one.
That’s my guess anyway.
It’s one of those days where – well – you just have to come to the conclusion that all Darwinists hate – that such a day as today – with all the beautiful birds enjoying this day in our back yard – that a day like today could not simply be the result of random evolutionary chaotic coincidence.
There just has to be a divine plan.
A master designer.
There has to be an artist deity who knows just how much blue goes in the sky and how to swirl it with the white of the clouds – matching it with the greens in the grass and the leaves and the brown in the woods of the bark and the plant stems.
There must be a master aromatologist – a master of creating the most perfect aromas – as a deity – to mix the smells of lavender blossoming and cut grass blades and tree leaves that waft across in a gentle breeze – it can’t just all be Darwinistic coincidence.
The Darwinists will all comment here that such a thought is absurd.
But I bet deep in their own hearts – to experience such perfection as is today – to see such amazing beauty – more beautiful than any of the great masters could ever paint – more wonderful than any event planner could ever construct an experience – deep in the Darwinist’s heart they would find the awe that leads one to believe in a power higher than ours.
A God.
There must be.
Hoppy the squirrel just popped up on the fence that borders the back of our property. And Suzy took notice and scrambled down and across the yard – all the while Hoppy knowing Suzy’s limitations as a black lab – merely stands on the top of the wooden fence mocking her by cleaning his hands and face.
Yeah, there’s a God alright.
Or maybe I’m just a bit more sentimental today – on this beautiful June morning. Maybe I am just more emotional because of the aches in my body from all the work I did yesterday weeding and primping the gardens and trimming and feeding the grass to bring out its best shades of green.
Or perhaps it's due to that very exciting win the Detroit Tigers pulled off in the bottom of the ninth inning by a walk off pop fly hit by new rookie catcher Omir Santos to knock in the runner from third to defeat those bastardly New York Yankees to hopefully put the Detroiter’s back on track this season – perhaps that has me a bit more wistful this morning than usual.
Damn those Yankees.
Damn those Yankees.
Or maybe it’s just the Kailua in my coffee.
Yeah, that’s likely it.
But there is no denying this is a perfect June morning.
I am savoring every nuance of it. All the way down to how the sunlight twinkles on the top of the dancing water in the pool.
It’s all so perfect.
Until a neighbor in a nearby yard decided to start his lawn mower.
