Warmer this morning. 16 degrees.
At first, the southeastern sky is vibrant – a red-orange band that reflects in the window of a house across the street.
The orange disappears, the red fades to pink and migrates higher into the sky until it bleeds away completely, leaving the sky to match the snow, blue-white and gray.
There’s the chickadee again. Chicka-dee-dee-dee-dee. A couple of twittery birds shoot from above my house eastward across the street. A dog barks.
It’s a weekday. A different kind of morning. A Monday.
As I sit on the porch sipping my coffee, one human on foot and at least 17 humans in vehicles pass by.
Most of the vehicles are SUVs or pickup trucks or vans. A small red car with snow still stuck to its roof rolls by, trailing a booming bass line in its wake. One vehicle is the recycling truck. The driver nearly misses a can set out next to a parked vehicle and has to back up to make the collection. A car pulls into a driveway and two children get out and go into the house, and the car drives away.
A squirrel skitters around in the tree and settles onto a branch, tucking its tail up over the top of itself to keep warm.
The sky brightens. A new day has begun.
Copyright 2020 by Katie Bradshaw