Yesterday I woke early. I slipped from bed before the sun had slipped over the horizon. I sipped warm coffee and dabbled in my writing notebook, playing with a few ideas, reworking some poems. I examined an exotic-looking moth that had visited overnight and still rested beneath the exterior light. In the garden, the hummingbirds darted and hovered and dipped their needle beaks into phlox blossoms and bee balm.
Yesterday, I slipped away for an early morning walk on the beach. Early mist still cloaked the offshore islands, turning them into tree tipped silhouettes. I left a meandering trail of footprints along the shore. The waves swished and the gulls called. The piping plovers and sandpipers rushed back and forth, playing tag with the surf.
I soaked in the serenity of stretches of sand, sky and water. My fingers traced water-etched grains of sculpted drift wood and I followed a butterfly as it danced and fluttered across the sloping sand.
Yesterday, I sat on the back porch and felt the sun warm on my legs. The chickens clucked contentedly and strutted by to see if I had anything to offer. My cat dozed under the lawn chair.
Bees bumbled and tumbled amidst the garden blossoms. I read my book until my daughter and two of her friends joined me. We talked of their lives as they head into their first year out of college – two of them, my daughter included, are heading to Philadelphia, one to Arizona. My husband joined us. We sat on the porch and talked about nothing important, nothing newsworthy.
Yesterday, I painted with my husband. We worked on the front of the house, brushing rich strokes of color over old, worn paint. Companionable and quiet. Productive.
Yesterday, I talked on the phone with two of my sisters, catching up. We chitchatted about our families, books, jobs, the upcoming school year, the weather, exercise. We meandered through unhurried conversations. We shared. We connected.
Yesterday, I also talked with my son. He called on his way home from work and we chatted leisurely about this and that – his girlfriend, his summer, his job and when we would see each other next. He tried to educate me about preseason football. I encouraged him to get new tires and to make an appointment to have his teeth cleaned.
Yesterday, I played cards with my daughters. “One more game,” we kept saying. We laughed at our competitive natures and commiserated over the difficulties of the game. They kept up a running repartee, peppered with laughing comments and quotes to each other – quirky inside jokes or references to shows or movies they’d watched together. I basked in the moment and in their friendship, which once wasn’t and now so clearly is.
Yesterday, I slipped into bed next to my husband. My book was waiting. I fell into its pages and then, shortly afterward, drifted away into sleep.
I don’t know what today will bring, but I’m so grateful for yesterday.
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