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
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