Report From An Opinionated Gardener – January 23
Since I became an adult, no one would accuse me of being a “morning person.” Just ask my husband. I am not one of the up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-and-loving-it types. This morning, however, The Dog gave me the gift of an early morning. I just wish he hadn’t done it by barfing next to my bed.
But ignoring the way I was summoned into the day just before dawn, once I was up, once the vomit was cleaned off the rug and the water was boiling for coffee, it was great to go outside at sunrise. I filled the birdfeeder and noted that the birds I call The Morning Dove Mafia were perched in the very tops of the trees, waiting for my sunflower seed and the warming sun.
Even the bluebirds, normally afternoon visitors to the feeder, were out in numbers, throwing off the well practiced dance that the jays, chickadees, cardinals and the aforementioned mafia have perfected.
Being up earlier than usual means I have a longer morning, and this is indeed a gift. More time to write, finish the match-prints for my publisher (A Garden Lover’s Cape Cod is going into its second printing) and read The New Yorker. More time to savor the colorful morning sky, the kaleidoscope of birds and the unfolding of a cold winter day.
Which all illustrates that sometimes what seems like plain puke is really a present.