There was nothing novel about my morning, until the kindle froze.  Up at 5:15, brew a cup of coffee, snacks for the cat, and back into bed for an episode of ‘Murder, She Wrote’ on the kindle.  But then the kindle froze.  In the moment it did, another idea popped into mind.  So, I grabbed my robe, a sketchbook and the coffee (nothing was going to happen without the coffee) and headed into the garden.

For a few weeks now, I’ve thought about and even planned the night before to spend my mornings in the garden.  I had a vision of sketching and journaling – perhaps even break out the watercolors – and chronicling the garden as it awakened.  Unfortunately that routine of ‘…back into bed for an episode of…’ has proven tougher to break than I’d imagined.

So this morning, tucked into the bench behind the dining room, I drew the tulips that just a week ago were fresh, but are now all fading beauties.  Their once fuchsia petals have become a dusty pale translucent blush pink.  They looked like those older women I see and envy … those women who have completely accepted themselves and live with their arms thrown open and their heads thrown back, appreciating whatever the universe sends across their paths.

I think the sketchbook was the key ingredient.  If I had just grabbed the robe and coffee and headed outside, I would have missed so much.  Sketching the tulips allowed me to notice how the stamens are a deep reddish-brown when the flower is in full bloom, but turns to a brash sunflower yellow as the flower fades.  Focused as I was, I noticed when the nearby leaves shivered and a chipmunk emerged to face the day.  Bird song drew my gaze to the crabapple tree … the bird house was removed for pruning last fall and needs to be re-hung.

As the morning was overcast, eventually the first few drops of rain nudged me back inside before the sketchbook (which has previously completed pages with watercolor) became wet.

I found it a peaceful way to start my day … I liked being creative first thing … before my inner critic awoke and before I got sucked into Facebook or Pinterest or whathaveyou.  And the cat seemed content to be curled up on the dining room radiator under windows instead of on the bed.

I hope my kindle freezes again tomorrow.