An hour ago I lamented that the sun was not out today.
Now it is. Full flung, glory on. This is the way of it in North Florida.
The finches are on the feeder and the ever-constant cardinals. A squirrel takes his position in the pecan tree eight feet away, positioning and steeling himself for his leap to the feeder platform where he will hog all the seeds he can get in his greedy mouth. Trixie and Mabel and Sharon are beneath the feeder, scratching at the seeds the birds and squirrels fling off.
It is beautiful here today.
I heard the woodpecker knocking somewhere and went out with the real camera. I followed the sound and can't believe I found him but I did. He was so far up in a live oak that it was almost dizzying, just to look up that far. A ray of sunlight caught his gaudy head and there he was.
Everything is shining jewel-like today. The clusters of Nandina on the west side of the yard.
The plants make a thicket which the ducks and hens love to nap under. Elvis keeps watch and preens.
How beautifully his glossy tail-feathers are coming in after last summer's molt. They too, shine in the sun with opalescent color. Green and black. Emerald and onyx.
In person news, Lily has the flu. I mean, it must be the flu. Jason had it too. Lily is running a fever over 102 and her head hurts and she aches and freezes. She's never had the flu before and is somewhat bewildered I think, by how horrible it is. She works with the public and there you go. I hope with all my heart that my boys don't get it and I am so sorry that she and Jason did. I offered to go get Owen and Gibson but they are with their other grandmother today. I have offered to make Lily some chicken soup and take it to her. I am waiting for her return text to tell me if she would like that.I would like to do it for her. Mr. Moon is going to town to pressure wash the other side of the duplex where Lily and Jason live and which we own and need to get ready to rent.
I intend to go out with my trimmers and cut back more of winter's detritus. And perhaps I will make sopa de lima for my girl. She has not answered my text but she has probably fallen back asleep.
I could though, quite happily, sit right here on this porch, watching the way the sun makes everything gleam. The flit of birdwing and squirrel tail. The magnolia and camellia leaves. The fur of the cat as she prowls about her jungle, pretending none can see her.
It is Sunday and there are so many troubles all over the world and perhaps it is shallow and selfish of me to sit here in my own tiny kingdom, forest, jungle, garden, world where all seems to be so completely fine.
Or perhaps this is my job, exactly as it should be. I am the god's eye on the sparrow. Or at least the cardinal, the redheaded woodpecker, the finch.
For right now, for today, I am that eye.
Thank you for being that eye with me this morning.