Happy Independence Day, friends!
It is a quiet day at home for me. My radio woke me at 6, just like it does every morning, but I wasn’t in a terrific rush today. I simply lay in bed for about ten minutes, feeling the music wash over me, before I got up. The kitties didn’t entirely approve of this, but they tried to be patient. When I did get up, I skipped my normal morning routine, and just threw clothes on. Since I’d had lunch late yesterday and thus not wanted or needed supper, I was HUNGRY. I was planning to hit the Hardee’s drive-thru for a breakfast more substantial than a luna bar and a fruit cup.
When I stepped outside my front door, I was almost paralyzed by the quiet. I could not hear any human-related sounds at all. There were many birds to hear, and squirrels scampering through the trees and across the streets. I stood still on my sidewalk, closed my eyes, and savored the beauty as the breeze kissed my cheeks. Soon enough, I realized, there would be car sounds and squealing, excited children, and barbecue grills and fireworks and sparklers. But this – this feeling of openness and quiet and bigness – this is part of what America has always meant.
Now I am reclined on my couch, content with my wonderfully greasy breakfast biscuits, settling in to work. It was my choice to work today, to make more progress on my software project before I go on vacation next week; even better, my holiday hours for today will “float” to next Friday, so I won’t have to use as many of my precious, hoarded vacation hours. I don’t expect much in the way of work-related email today, nor calls to my cell phone. I will enjoy the quiet of today’s workday, the ability to focus on my task without drive-bys and other interruptions, the opportunity to make some good progress and maybe even get a little bit ahead.
The kitties have eaten their breakfast and have embarked on their rigorous daily schedule of naps, snoozes, and slumber. The conure is playing with her toys and watching me at my laptop. The window is open behind me, at least until it starts to get hot out there, and I can hear the busyness of the birds and the squirrels in contrast to my still-sleeping neighbors. It is a good morning. It will be a good day.
Peace be with you, my brothers and sisters. Regardless of where you live, I hope you’ll find a moment to express gratitude for your home, for your country. No home is perfect, no hometown is perfect, and no home country is perfect. But it is still home, it is still where you belong. And that is a blessing beyond measure.