I’m having one of those perfect moments.
The sun is shining, there’s a light breeze that brings with it the smell of damp leaves and decay. Fall. We’re in between thunderstorms, expected to last on and off through the night.
J is playing “She Talks to Angels” on the acoustic guitar. It’s beautiful melody floats out through the screen door to where I’m sitting on the porch in my chair.
The roast in the crockpot is almost done, I can smell it on the breeze, too. Potatoes are simmering on the stove. Roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy is my all time favorite meal.
The birds are flitting around, enjoying a break in the wind and rain, along with the smorgasbord of seeds I’ve put out.
The lake is rippling in the wind, softer now, so that you can almost see the reflection of the Fall colors in its surface.
In a minute, I’ll check the potatoes and prep to start the gravy.
For now, hello from my perfect moment.