TGI Sunny

I love morning. Clean with sunshine and new possibilities. "Salt shining behind its glass cylinder. Milk in a blue bowl," and all that. Coffee, and this morning, pancakes and E.B. White, whose writing is of summer and Camp, and lazy days by the lake in Charleston, bull frogs and duck weed, grasshoppers humming, sun and shade, nothing to do. In actuality, people (me) were hot, sticky, headachy, and irritable, and E.B. White actually writes of Maine, not Pennsylvania and Illinois, but the memory of it and what it could be is nice. I want to go to Camp, and am glad that it is in August this year.

It's a holiday and it's sunny and chilly, with a beautifully blue sky. Tomorrow it will rain again, but I think that this part of the country does not actually need rain.

Okay, that quote is from Mary Oliver; see the link. I can't not state that, as footnote-ish as it is.