Last Friday I couldn’t sleep past 5am so I got up and had a leisurely start to the day.  About six I thought about taking a short snooze but then looked out the patio blinds and … It was the start of an absolutely glorious dawn.

Just on the edge, the crickets were still chirping and the first bird flew past.  Then I heard rustling, and a chirp.  Then the cardinal tested out his morning singing.  Absolutely wonderful.  I had to grab a sweatshirt, a cup of hot cider, and my phone.

The first squirrel came by.

Mama cardinal came for some breakfast.  Two hummingbirds flitted around and around for over half an hour, sipping at the feeder a bit, and stopping by the ‘Rainforest Sunrise’ blooms.  An hour and a half later I reluctantly reminded myself that no, an impromptu vacation day was not an option this time.  But it was a fabulous start of the day.

The sunset that night was cloudless.  A beautiful, gorgeous fall day.  No clouds meant a clear sunset.

The next morning the sunrise had just the faintest line of clouds.

Another gorgeous day.  The squirrels and birds arrived.  The hummingbirds chirped.  Our guest in the garden arrived and we enjoyed his company.

And so it goes.  Tulips to lilies to hostas to sedum to an abundance of leaves on the ground to snow drifts.  Ground with frost to days with air conditioning and back to days with sweatshirts on.  I have worn out another pair of my oldest sandals, dubbed this year’s “garden sandals” and am considering which pair will have the job next year.

There are big moments and tiny moments, moments that sneak up on you, moments you plan for, moments you anxiously await.  I had a crazy busy week at work, overbooked myself socially, and fell into bed last night early.  My husband had a routine week. After months of planning and outfitting and practicing, our oldest son and his girlfriend will start their first season of bow hunting today.  We are waiting patiently to hear our youngest son has completed his Pacific Crest Trail through hike.  The sun comes up, the day proceeds, the sun goes down.

Today, in this moment, the sun is rising in a completely different place than last week.  It is shining through different pine trees.  While I sit here, at the same moment, a few geese went honking by and the humingbirds approached the feeder.  The hummingbirds are still, in this moment, dancing and chirping.  The first squirrel of the day has arrived.  The robins are gone (that we can tell).  The geese have been flocking up, and it will be quite a few months until the dark-eyed junkos arrive. We probably won’t be sitting out on the patio for very long periods of time then.

Sunrise, Sunset