A vision softly creeping

I was feeling a little overwhelmed at work today, with the school year winding down and the massive workload that comes along with it. When I came home, I changed my clothes, put on my new hiking shoes and poured a glass of my husband’s homemade sun tea.

Then I went out back under the umbrella and sat there in the silence with my drink.

It wasn’t really silent, though. I could hear the following, in no particular order:

Birds chirping in the trees

A woodpecker drilling a hole

Cars in the distance

The droning of a bee in the flower pot behind me

The wind rustling the leaves of the tree in front of me

The wings of a bird flying close by

And I thought to myself, “It’s so good to be home.”

And then I thought, “This iced tea rocks.”

My husband gets a gallon jug, fills it with tea bags and water and lets it sit in the sun for several hours. Then he adds just a bit of sugar. The odd thing is the tea bags he uses. There’s no rhyme or reason, and he just grabs one of everything he can find. It tastes really good, though. And um, I do have a lot of tea.

Thanks for coming by. Always a pleasure to have you visit.

Hello there!

Until tomorrow . . .