I love mornings.
Even on hot days.
When the sound of the cooler blows, coffee brews, bread toasts...
Fresh fruit scents waft about.
It's quiet and very sunny.
I don't drink coffee but I love the scent of Mister's morning brew.
It's hot picking flowers and rosemary.
But fresh and cool inside.
The light of summer is beautiful and bright.
Strong and light.
Setting table, breakfast times.
I love that quiet fresh morning time.
Poached eggs, fresh squeezed oranges.
Avocados + blooms.
Sitting, taking the time to look at every little petal.
Layers and pinks.
Jam jars for sipping.
Creamy poached eggs.
Sitting extra long when Sundays roll in.
Elbows on table, no matter.
Chatting about this and that's of life with Mister.
First giant dahlia bloom.
Herbs in water.
I just love the soft clanking sounds of mornings.
Mornings like these remind me of being in the dining room of a beautiful old hotel.
Love those places to pieces.
I have such fond memories of both.
Fresh mornings, silverware sounds, coffee and tea and the scent of cooking potatoes.
People seem delighted and happy.
First morning sips.
Love that time of day.
It's been a crazy weekend.
1) I got sloshed around in bed last night thinking I was going mad, only to find out we had a rare earthquake occurrence in Arizona, yikes!
And then only to find out, maybe it's not that rare, as seen in history files.
Personally, every so often, I feel a little tremble of the ground.
I think, am I imagining things?
Hmm, seems, perhaps not?
2) Watching a mama try to teach a baby owl to fly for two nights.
Baby crying crying.
Me, crying crying.
Quite big baby below.
Mama watching watching.
Hi Owlie Mama
Me hoping hoping.
And in my heart knowing....
Nature knows what it is doing.
Mama knows what she is doing.
So I left them alone quickly.
Please fly baby owl, please!!!
Good baby owl info. here.
Oh my aching weekend nerves, hahaha!!