Lazy Sunday Mornings

Thank god for lazy Sunday mornings, when the sun is dappled across the slats in the windows, tapping on the filmy curtains, and telling us that it's all right if we want to come out on a beautiful Florida morning, but it's all right if we want to sleep in a little more.

The windows, open a slight crack, bring a faint breeze and the scent of fresh earth and overnight rains.

Roseate spoonbills and white ibises graze on the lawns, eagerly snapping up the insects which have risen to the top due to the rain and early morning dew. Squirrels frisk through the trees, running down the electrical lines and chasing each other about.

The mourning doves call out, and their cries could break your heart if you didn't know that they were mourning for nothing at all. Wild peacocks in the distance sound like frightened children, calling to one another: How did you sleep? Are you OK? Have you found anything tasty yet?

Dogs, energized because This is The Special Day and their owners are still at home, yap excitedly at the birds and squirrels and tear about the backyards in an endless session of tag. But even they are more leisurely in their endeavors, as if to say "I have all day. I'll get you eventually."

Hardly any cars go by. They slumber, like their owners.

Trees remain still except for their leaves, which flutter in the occasional breeze.

And for a moment, just for a moment, all seems right with the world.