morning becomes the world
I let Paddy Pup out of his shed.
The swallows who live with him rush past me into the open air. They circle overhead giving little cries.
"Glory," they say. "Glory to God."
I answer them in like spirit.
We are creatures in the creation praising the creator.
Paddy Pup sidles forth blinkily and shoots me a fond glance.
"Still talking to the swallows," he seems to say. "You're absolutely nuts you know."
This from a dog who eats handkerchiefs.
The tang of Autumn is everywhere.
I savour it.
The swallows who live with him rush past me into the open air. They circle overhead giving little cries.
"Glory," they say. "Glory to God."
I answer them in like spirit.
We are creatures in the creation praising the creator.
Paddy Pup sidles forth blinkily and shoots me a fond glance.
"Still talking to the swallows," he seems to say. "You're absolutely nuts you know."
This from a dog who eats handkerchiefs.
The tang of Autumn is everywhere.
I savour it.
posted by heelers | 1:11 AM
2 Comments:
You manage to convey to me in just a few words, the exciting feeling of the beginning of Autumn on your side of the Atlantic. I can really taste that tang, it is a wonderful time to be there.
I'm looking forward to autumn. It's one of my favorite seasons. (I have four favorite seasons.)
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