Plans, and Interruptions

The birds just began singing. Sweet calls through the trees. One says, “Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up.” I can see the pasture clearly now in dusky light and the pecan tree turns from black to gray, day coming on like gangbusters. The air is light without scent, soft and welcoming. There are the headlights coming down the road–my guys arriving. Dear son stops to get Memaw’s newspaper from the driveway.

So we begin, and I’m reminded that this day I am given…

Ha, ha, great thoughts are interrupted. And...