Last cup

My last cup

I have sat in this garden so many times over the years, enjoying waking up to nature, when the seasons allowed. Although I even managed to sit in the winter with a heavy coat and quilt in tow. Coffee’s steam rose gently and warmed my nose; the quietness of winter is something I savored. Interesting how introspects and retrospect has such an impact on a life if given into them.

Spring in the garden was wonderful, fragrant moss and loam fill your nostrils as the caffeine fills your need for energy to strike out of the garden and bloom as a bulb pushing through the earth.

The summer season was of course the easiest; busy with the growing, and blooming many times harder to sit in this garden having a cup of coffee with thoughts of the day’s needs, wants and responsibilities. Yet it was exciting being in the garden, pulling weeds, watching birds tend to their world of chaos and melodies, bees sweeting their home, bugs twittering, yet my children now twitter.

Fall was different, the smell of wet leaves, or pine needles heated by the sun, the garden is slowly shrinking back, colorful yet blustery it ever so reminds me just before the winter how stark the color being gone has left us. This same feeling I had when the kids struck out on their trek through the garden in the spring of their lives, fall reminds me of that empty nest I felt as it flew past me now bringing me into my winter garden, sitting with my friends introspect and retrospect being warmed by the steam from my coffee.


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