Early Morning In the Country

EARLY MORNING IN THE COUNTRY The smell of fresh brewed coffee The sound of bacon slowly sizzling in the pan And the heady aroma it creates Homemade biscuits in the oven Sending the scent of their baking Into the far corners of every room in the house A bottle of cane syrup Made the old fashioned way on Thanksgiving Day Freshly churned butter for the biscuits once they're done Mourning doves cooing to each other Twelve sparrows jockeying for positions On the nine available perches on the feeder The sun slowly beginning to peep over the horizon As if testing the day to see if it's time to rise and shine Its rays scattering sunbeams through the winter foliage The frost slowly, almost reluctantly, beginning to melt Young squirrels scurrying around Under the centuries old oak tree, searching for acorns No concrete and steel buildings No jostling crowds No cabs, buses, or honking horns No exhaust fumes Ah! The beauty, joy, peace, and tranquility Of early morning in the country 1 February 2010