The Perfect Day

The Perfect Day
The morning is still, the clouds barely moving, scattered across the deep cerulean blue of the sky.
Weak sunshine filtering through the trees would indicate the arrival of a good day, which would make a lovely change from all the cold and rain of late.
Yesterday, the trees she could see from her window were thrashing around like whirling dervishes; today, they gently rippled, probably grateful for Mother Nature’s change of mood.
As she watched, the clouds began to thin out, leaving fine gossamer whispers that even now, were beginning to dissipate.
A perfect start to a perfect day…