"April Break" is an ambiguous term/holiday, but I am a fan of ambiguity. Always have been. Especially when it means a day off.
I slept *late.*
I took an extra long jog in the cool grey air. I saw an elderly man on the path and greeted him with a breathy "hello" and he smiled a smile that reminded me of my grandpa. It made me happy and sad together. I watched the birds flit harmoniously from tree to tree as I ran along the mostly deserted Greenway trail. I even saw a bluebird hiding in the brush. Not a bluejay, mind you. A bluebird.
I am drinking coffee from my favorite hand-painted cup from Mexico (by way of Santa Fe). Its accents are that deep, unmistakable, ultramarine blue, the same blue I noticed on the bird's bright body. (Stirring in a little honey straight from the comb doesn't hurt every once in a while.)
I have a quiet house save for the creaking, swinging back door, Sigur Ros, twittering feathery friends outside the kitchen window or the occasional train.
I made a very bright breakfast consisting of farm-fresh eggs which revealed intensely orange yolks when pricked with my hungry fork, the greenest tomatillo salsa, the very reddest vine tomatoes with sea salt, and a couple of creamy white shards of Idiazabal cheese.
I am making travel plans.
I plan on putting down some soil and ground cover below my giant maple tree in the back yard. I have bright green hostas, creeping myrtle, and some luscious green Japanese spurge to settle into the ground.
I might even go purchase some oilcloth and finally cover the cushions on my sad old outdoor settee.
Plans have I. The day wears on, better get to it. WIth gratitude in my heart for a Monday all to myself.....
