I'm sitting here at the round kitchen table with the fan on overhead. The dogs, and my husband, are still in bed, even though it's nearly eleven. I got up at nine, which only seems late. In reality, it's early for me, as I went to bed around three.

I'm waiting for groceries to be delivered, and using the time to just be.

I always get introspective after my birthday. I'm not sure if I'm processing the previous year or planning for the future – probably a little of both.

I can see the pool sparkling in the morning sun, and I'm watching the ripples caused by the wind. Fuzzy's computer speakers are still on and every so often a random mariachi beat issues forth. It almost sounds like cicadas, but then it doesn't.

I haven't had coffee yet.
I know once I do the quiet part of my morning will be over.
For a few more moments, I will sit here, and watch the trees and the birds.
And just…breathe.

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