The End Of The Day




These days, in late afternoon, the sun streams onto my kitchen table and illuminates the windowsill near the patio.



 The light is more golden than what spills in while I eat my breakfast and sit at the table and write.



 The arrangements vary slightly, too, as at some point during all those hours I have gone out into the garden and cut what blossoms are in their prime.  I add them in, take what is wilted out, and freshen the water.




It feels good to pause and take notice after one phase of rushing ends for the day and before the next begins:  dinner, dog walking, bedtime routines.