Cat Walk

Curled wisteria branch, purple pregnant, emits an admirable fragrance, nectar sweet, attracting absurd little bees, their costly harvest caught in tiny golden sacks of honeyed treat. My tabby cat stalks the genial garden between blue iris and peonies, pink, an excellent engineer of hunting prowess, her generous tail bent in orange feline kink. Over and over she paces the trails between the blossoming rows of floral order caring not an iota for the creatures scrambling toward the garden’s border. This stalking! The song birds grow irritable and her soundless shadowing quiets the air; I watch the scene from cottage window behind sheer sheltering lace in kindly chair. Oh, how I appreciate this morning beauty spread in ravishing abundance all around; the dance of nature, the careful balance, the gifts of gracious God that everywhere abound. My cat will tire and meander homeward, beg entrance with meowing knock; the still garden will return to quiet, peaceful pleasure beneath her sleepy one-eyed watch from window sill. Copyright, July 6, 2016