It is still dark with an overcast sky as I set my coffee cup down on the wooden table. Closing my eyes, I listen to the wind while the coffee’s aroma floats under my nose. Haku, one of our cats, who is always up early while the other three continue to snuggle warmly in bed with Katrina, curls into a ball on my lap.
I sip the steamy brew and deftly place the ceramic cap on the cup as I drift into meditation. I find it too much trouble to open my eyes or think; the whole process seems to happen without me. Suddenly, Haku jumps off my lap onto the wide windowsill. Stirring from my reverie at the sudden movement, I open my eyes to see snowflakes falling: snowflakes the size of large cotton puffs, covering the ground.
You just never know what to expect of a day. I think if you live long enough you’re no longer surprised, just amused at the simple things that occur in life. Well, the snow didn’t last, the temperature rose, and it’s now raining. Katrina is up and about. All the cats are fed, and we’re already planning what dinner will be. Funny, how life melts one hour into another as days and seasons pass. I’m glad I’m here to notice.