Starting the Day off Right

The leaves made soft, rustling sounds. They were the only sound I heard, except for my breathing, as I stood at the railing of my deck, looking out over my considerable yard. I'm not sure I ever paid attention to the sound of leaves blowing around before. That was probably because there was always so much other noise around.

I never knew such quiet existed. I grew up in the suburbs of a large city, so there was always some sound to be heard. There were always cars going up and down the street, children laughing or screaming somewhere in the neighborhood, a siren blaring its warning to get out of the way -- well, you get the idea. I thought this was normal. After living this way all my life, I learned to tune most of it out. What I didn't realize until now were all the good sounds got silenced in the process, too.

We moved into our dream home, well out of reach of suburban sprawl, about two months ago. We wanted our daughter, Jamie, who is soon to turn seven, and her younger brother, Timmy, to have plenty of space to run around and to have fresh air to breathe. The children weren't very happy about leaving their friends, so the first couple of weeks were a little stressful.  After we took them to the SPCA and let them pick out a puppy for their very own, the mood brightened considerably around our house.

As I've done almost every morning since moving here, I stand at the railing and watch for the school bus carrying my children to go by, then go back inside to pour another cup of coffee. I work out of my home, so my time's my own. I've made it a habit to enjoy a leisurely half hour or so after the children are gone, to sit in one of the chairs on the deck and take in the nature surrounding me.

Today I've chosen one of the rocking chairs we purchased from the Amish furniture store just a half-mile from our house. The seat gently slopes back and meets the back at such a perfect angle that I feel like I'm floating. Several other types of chairs from the Amish store adorn our wrap-around deck, and every one of them is just as comfortable as this one.

Now that I'm settled, I survey the yard, hoping to catch a glimpse of a squirrel or a bunny, dashing this way and that, playing their games. Nothing yet. We have close to twenty trees visible from where I'm sitting, so I scour the tree limbs for any sign of shenanigans going on. There--up in the sugar maple, I see limbs swaying. Within a couple of seconds, a squirrel comes running out toward the end of the branch with another squirrel in close pursuit. They jump with ease to another tree and are quickly out of sight.

The birds are singing all around me. Some are singing pretty little tunes while others sound like they are deep in serious conversation. By the different sounds of the chirps, I'd guess there are two separate conversations going on. I wonder what they are saying?

I finish my coffee and sit quietly rocking for a few more minutes, listening to the rustling leaves, and singing birds. I catch a glimpse of a deer running at the edge of the property and marvel at the animal's graceful moves. It's time to bid my morning ritual adieu and get to work. What a glorious way to start a work day off, I think, as I open the back door and step into the house.