Someone Watches

Someone watches just a little too closely.

The morning began as any other Monday.  Easy up, shower, out in less than ten minutes.  Save the bed making.  That takes a bit since the comforter always needs adjustment.  And, it is heavy.  Because it is white on a red oak bed frame in a linen colored room, it has to be even side-to-side.  Well, it would be even either way.  Really.  Neat and tidy.  That is how I like it.

A short trip to town for a vanilla latte - that's half a pump - no more.  Sweet just doesn't do it.  The staff at my local cafe has my order down pat.  Often, they have my morning beverage ready.  With mug in hand, it is off to yoga another ten minutes away.  Monday yoga is the best!  A friendly group, people I have known for years, so it is always fun.  We have a yoga mascot.  The yogi's little dog, a Boston Terrier I think, who has Cushings Syndrome.

Back to town for lunch.  They had it ready today.  It was probably my long phone conversation sitting in the car with a friend in New England.  They always keep up with me and I am so appreciative.  A healthy nutty fruity salad, the standard lunch fare I seem to get on most days.  Then it is off to my home.

Today, I filled another fifty holes from the raccoon.  Fifty the night before. I caught the little bandit on the video - about ten segments from late last night to each morn.  It even got under the closed cage to eat the apples I left for the groundhog.  Hoping to capture it, too, sometime today lest it be the digger.  The video tells me it is not.  At least not in this area.  If all goes well, there will be a raccoon living elsewhere soon.  The lawn will be treated with Milky Spore and hopefully it will be a quiet autumn here in the Smokies.

Afternoon brought me out on the porch.  The corinthian bells are singing.  Hummingbirds are watching.  Flying.  Albeit way too closely.  Sometimes two pairs will start out from the same direction, each choosing a different side from which to encircle me.  Apparently they don't understand the addage, 'do not bite the hand that feeds you.'  Figuratively, of course.

It has been a week of retreat.  Staying quiet, working around the house, seeing friends and then back on the mountain.  It doesn't get any better than this in the autumn months.

Reaching for afternoon chai, the someones increase.  Watching closely.  I hold the chai as they are curious about it.  No spillage on my new laptop.  Nope.  The chai is moved further from the table.

A female hummingbird sips at the feeder.  She is soon joined by her mate whose ruby throat is brillant in the autumn sun.  Someone watches closely and this time, it is me.