It’s the pause in our week. It’s the moment we put down our worries, responsibilities and busy thoughts.
Just for a moment.
— My hummingbird is sipping nectar from the backyard feeder I filled last week. He goes away and comes back for seconds.
— The barbecue smoker stands proud and manly on its pad, ready for the lovely babyback ribs it will soon receive and slowly perfect over the long, busy day.
— Over breakfast as my wife is hurrying off to work she has this conversation with the seven-year-old:
“That’s a nice outfit you’re wearing, Nana!”
“Thank you, Sweetie!”
“It looks really old!”
— I drive to the newspaper stand outside the donut shop on Route 66. The usual crowd is there, old men with their coffee and cigarettes enjoying the chilly morning air, the rising sun and each other’s company. Some read newspapers. One has a racing form. They all sit alone at separate tables while talking to each other from the privacy of their individual space.
A similar scene is going on at the nearby Starbucks but it’s an entirely different crowd. They have lattes and laptops. No smoke; less conversation.
The sun is fully up. Yard sales are underway.
I have things that need doing and it’s time.
Saturday morning is fleetingly sweet and perfect. I pray for another one next week.
© 2010 by David L. Williams, all rights reserved
Saturday morning = possibilities.