I sit on the balcony
for a long long beautiful moment I sit in perfect peace
the planes are not flying overhead, the underground trains are not going overground on the bridge to the east, the traffic is almost non-existant on the road bridge to the west; the piazza below me is empty of screaming children, laughing couples, delivery lorries
I close my eyes and soak up the warm late summer sun
and then, gradually, it is as if the world around me wakes
the planes change their flight paths and a steady stream of them fly overhead, a couple of trains pass each going in opposite directions and they cross in front of me; I can hear a police siren and that of an ambulance, cars are suddenly bumper to bumper and the drivers toot their horns, buses - three, of course - trundle along; mothers spill out of the cafe and their children shriek with joy as they are let loose in their urban playground, someone's mobile goes off and I can hear its ring tone - that of an old-fashioned telephone; a cyclist on a bike with with a squeaky wheel cycles across the square below me and a lorry spills it contents - beer barrels - noisily in the street to the south
I open my eyes, stretch and come in to make my coffee
for a long long beautiful moment I sit in perfect peace
the planes are not flying overhead, the underground trains are not going overground on the bridge to the east, the traffic is almost non-existant on the road bridge to the west; the piazza below me is empty of screaming children, laughing couples, delivery lorries
I close my eyes and soak up the warm late summer sun
and then, gradually, it is as if the world around me wakes
the planes change their flight paths and a steady stream of them fly overhead, a couple of trains pass each going in opposite directions and they cross in front of me; I can hear a police siren and that of an ambulance, cars are suddenly bumper to bumper and the drivers toot their horns, buses - three, of course - trundle along; mothers spill out of the cafe and their children shriek with joy as they are let loose in their urban playground, someone's mobile goes off and I can hear its ring tone - that of an old-fashioned telephone; a cyclist on a bike with with a squeaky wheel cycles across the square below me and a lorry spills it contents - beer barrels - noisily in the street to the south
I open my eyes, stretch and come in to make my coffee
4 comments:
:-)
What a wonderful peacefilled moment you were granted.
I awakened to the very loud clap of thunder--and the "Tree goes bye bye" thought.
Clean canvas!
And a happy Monday morning to you, ma'am...
oh! you were here and I was at yours! I love it when that happens. . .
makes me smile so!!!
and yeay! for clean canvases - and thank goodness you took those lovely photos of your chalkwork. . .
Yup....washed away! And were it not for the mounds of paperwork and 63 degree patio weather--I'da been out there creating again (though I woulda been hard pressed to get himself to join in, I'm sure!).
Ah well, nevermind... There was no note from Studley today--though I'm thinkin' I'll be requesting one from him tomorrow morning...
<--got a nifty keeno toy that makes noise that she's toting into a 'serious' meeting tomorrow.
*snickering and laughing!!!!!*
you do all that before coffee.
I am IMpressed.
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