Anniversary Morning

I take my cup of tea to the steps of the back porch.  My intention is to sit, drink my tea and watch the world around me.

It’s so much warmer out here than in the house. I take off my sweatshirt and notice the big black ant exploring the bark on my potted cactus.  When it gets to the spot where the spine grows from it pauses.   I think maybe there is something sweet in that place, sap or whatever it is a cactus has circulating through its body.

When Minnie wraps herself about my back, leaning more heavily than she would if she had her fourth leg, I resist scratching her.  The only “doing’ I’m doing is drinking my tea and seeing.

Soon White Hen approaches me looking for food.  “Not now,” I tell her, “I have nothing for you.”  She’s looking directly at me her eyes angled up, her beak a weapon.  But then she turns her head and those same angry eyes are just round circles, wide with curiosity.

The last iris blooms, towering over the garden, the same yellow as the giant butterfly in my dream last night. The first yellow lily (a more orangey-yellow than the butterfly and iris)  blooms low to the ground.  The lilies will last longer than the iris’, into the late summer at least.

A big starling sits at the peak of the barn roof looking like an ornament and young birds fly from the lilac bush to the fence to the apple tree, exploring their world.

Jon and I were married 12 years ago today.

Friday I looked inside my ring where the date is etched, was it 6/10/12 or 6/12/10,  we always mix it up.  We were thoughtful to make love this morning.  Not in the fevered way when we were first together. But gently with a familiarity that is sweet and calming.

Later we’ll celebrate by going out for lobster rolls and ice cream at an Ice Cream Stand in Vermont, thankful that Jon is well enough to eat again.

Minnie’s body twitches next to me on the warm cement step.  She’s fallen asleep using Griselle’s skull as a pillow, a smile on her face.

I sip the last of my tea as the back door opens.

Minnie wakes up and Jon is on the porch saying, “That’s my picture for the morning“, meaning me sitting on the step.  White Hen and KittyAnne hop down the two porch steps focused on the lawn ahead of them, now knowing that I really don’t have any food for them.