Beautiful Morning

The dogs woke me up this morning making impatient noises.  I got up, pulled my mind together from the strange dreams I was having, and I hooked Roux to a leash so we could all go outside.  Stepping outside always sort of sets the tone for the day.  Sometimes a thick blanket of hot wet air wraps around me, and I just feel ick.  Today, though, it was cool and dry, autumn in it.  It was wonderful.

I hate it when it's humid and miserable.  I don't want to be outside at all.  When it's cool and pleasant, just that little hint of a breeze rifling through the leaves, I always feel like anything is possible. I wish it was like that more often here.  I think about the climate of Brasilia, how it was pleasant even at more than 80 degrees because there was no wetness in the air.  There are days here when it's almost hard to breathe.

Everything was nearly idyllic.  This is the season where I have a million butterflies in my yard, and they and the hummingbirds were busy with the lantanas and the feeders.  The sun hadn't quite made it over the trees across the road, and everything was shady with only patches of light spotting the grass I mowed yesterday.  It felt good to be alive and outside.

Sometimes, not very often, but sometimes, I wish all I had to do was stay home and walk in the cool morning grass, come in and take care of things inside, that this was enough for a life.  I guess after awhile, I would get bored out of my mind, run out of things to do, start to feel claustrophobic.  It's just hard to imagine that when everything is pastoral and lovely on perfect mornings like today's.