I am watching as a noisy flock of Canada Geese land in the field across the gravel road behind my new house.
The sun is falling behind a row of beautiful trees. The kind of trees that look as beautiful when they explode green as they do in when they when they turn yellow as they do with snow on their bare branches.
I'm sitting on the steps beside the hammock, under the tree that holds two birdhouses.
While I drink my tea, Badly Drawn Boy is playing inside the house. I like their music a lot and I think that Cait would too. I will try and send her a cd of them in the near future.
A pencil is holding my spot in a new book that I'm reading. It is excellent so far. The kind of excellent that makes you want to read it very slowly so that you don't finish too quickly.
I want to light the lanterns in the backyard tonight and have a fire. Maybe I will.
I hear Bethany coming around the corner so I will leave off here to talk with my new roommate about her weekend in the mountains.
1 comment:
one year when i was little my dad accidentally ran over a canada gose with the tractor. he found the nest and the eggs were still warm and he brought them to the yard and put them under a laying hen. she hatched them and raised them (as chickens, mind you, they were a little confused as to their species) and eventually they flew away with a flock of wild geese. they did come home every year though and would perch on the tractor that killed their mother. it was painfully beautiful, and they came back until they died, or so i will assume.
just thought i should share that : )
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