The breeze floats through the air and into my room through the open window. I take it all in; the clear blue sky, the birds singing a sweet melody, the flowers poking up from the muddy ground.
The grass is partly green, a lush, vivid color, a joy to my sight. The rest that isn’t green is a soft brown-yellow color and is situated in patches around the yard. The mulch in the flower bed is a faded brown and has white pieces mixed in from the sun’s rays sucking the life from the fertile substance.
The deck steps poking out from the side are still a deep chocolate brown color, matching the shutters on our house. At the bottom of the case of stairs is the sidewalk, a nice beige-brown color. The imprint on the concrete is made up of boxes and squares. The texture is rough and jagged at places, but gives the concrete a very natural look to it. There is a gap between the house and steps and squished into the tiny space is a rose bush, still lifeless from the long winter. It looks much too large for the tiny space, and is growing out and into the steps. It is pressing against the house as well.
The sun filters through the clouds, shining down when aloud and casting shadows across the countryside. The clouds are piled high, some looking like mountains and others like pillows and animals. The breeze is so fresh and clean, filling my room with a sweet aroma as music plays in the background.
I wrap my arms around my long legs which are propped up on the window sill. I close my eye and breath in, letting it out slowly. Such an epic feel, a most blessed season of life, when everything is made new. I think of my mom and her work of refreshing ladies. She is planning for an event as I write. SHe wants the ladies to take a breath, a moment in time, and smell the air and watch the birds and feel the sun. I only hope she takes a moment, as I am now, and enjoys the sun and birds, and wind in her face.