The sounds of August...
The creak of the chair on the porch..
The scratching of Laddie on the door..
The unfolding of the morning paper
The coffee cup set down on the table..
The sound of insects buzzing..
The sound of a hummingbird whirring in the garden..
The sound of a distant mower..
The bark of a dog..
The sound of my breathing..
The sound of a helicopter overhead..
The sound of my foot tapping..
These are the sounds as I sit here on my porch this morning. I usually don't pay attention to everyday sounds, but today is different. School has started. The bus rattles down the road and picks up the laughing kids. They are all dressed in their best...new clothes, new shoes, new backpacks, and some have a lunchbox. All ages at our bus stop. School is open again and our neighborhood is silent...except for the sounds I just mentioned. There's a favorite song of mine by Herman's Hermits...There's a kind of hush....all over the world. School days are here again.
Balisha
7 comments:
Good morning Balisha, I didn't see a school bus this morning so the county schools must be later in opening.
I'll bet parents all over Rockford are breathing a sigh of either relief or loneliness;)
BTW, I have a New York aster very like yours starting to bloom. It's just covered in buds.
Marnie
I love the sounds of your neighborhood. Thanks for sharing them with us.l
No school days here yet, we have a couple more weeks yet. :)
hay hay, love your Blog especially the one about the Giant Tomato worms, ICKKKKKKKKK, they are beautiful but give me the cold chills!! I too have done the stomp dance! although it turns my stomach.
seeya, the best is yet to come,
LM
lucky you....no kinda of a hush for me...when school starts in a week, I'm right there in the thick of things. Folks can thank me for providing the quiet in the neighborhood!!
I accept cash.....
I love reading all your poetry... But I'm not ready for school buses yet. School starts for teachers on Mon, Kids start on Wed... Where did this summer go...
You write so well. You would have loved my husband..he was ..like you. Yes..there is something about the two of you...especially in your poetry. Would that be called prose?
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