On the Way to the Mailbox

The mailbox stands attached to a post anchored in an old tire rim. That’s authentic country, right? As I walked out to the road to fetch the mail, I saw small white and yellow butterflies performing acrobatics above mud puddles. So much rain had soaked the ground but things were finally drying out.

Bright orange Monarch butterflies trimmed in black flitted here and there. It is always a joy to see them and to know that soon they will be making a trip to South American forests where they winter over and next summer return. Amazing journeyers!

Yellow redbud leaves blown free during this morning’s shower lay scattered in the dampness. The fallen leaves were a special shade of yellow––not gaudy nor pale and insignificant. As I walked near, my Catahoula hound dog poked her head up from the shade of the hydrangea bush and I had to laugh at her dog peek-a-boo. I saw my black lab nestled in the azalea bushes, and noted the mulch and gravel she had racked aside to make herself that shady cool bed. She almost winked at me but decided she’d rather not to rise from her good spot.

My little gray striped kitten strolled the sidewalk. She came and laid herself by my feet wanting a belly rub. I saw shadows on the driveway of pecan tree branches dancing. And I felt the awesome sudden lowering of temperature under the largest tree that stand majestically and dutifully by the gate.

I saw the mailbox flag needed repair as it hung askew from the box’s side. A hawk circled slowly in the air above the neighboring farmer’s hay meadow. The road passed away from me and curved into trees on the other side of the creek bridge. No dust rose in the quiet air.

A young black angus bull calf liked the shade trees too. A couple of horses shared the pasture with our cows.

In the flowerbeds I spotted pink, white, and yellow calla lilies. Red roses, soft pale pink blooms, orangey roses––bright as flamenco dancers’ skirts, and tiny yellow tea buds brightening the gray siding and the lush green of summer grass and shrubs.

The sky was an even shade of everyday blue with streaks of oval white cloud. A mockingbird caught my eye as he flew from his perch on the basketball goal, the gray bird’s tail decorated with white scallops. Yesterday’s red hibiscus blooms I noted had shriveled, but new blooms waited to open. Around the great old oak tree a ring of day lilies nodded sleepily in the shade there.

That’s what I saw on my way to the mailbox today.

“ To find the interesting, the beautiful, and the sweet a man need search no further than his own surrounds.”

c e hollis

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