Breakfast With Butterflies

What a difference a week makes! This morning's lower temp's made it hard to believe that last weekend and now this week's ending were within the same month much less woven within a week of one another. With the dog days of August now winding down and the cool morning breeze whispering soft hints of Indian summer rounding the corner of our southern season, I had to get out of the house and stroll the dirt road to start my Friday. The sky was so clear, not a cloud in sight, and I don't believe even the color masters of Crayola could have matched this morning's rich blue sky.

I have long been in love with our neighboring hay fields once cut and baled. I love most the randomness of the bales scattered across the fresh cut fields. It was the perfect morning to walk out among the bales and photograph them basking in the morning sun. As I walked through the pasture, weaving my way through the vast bales, I couldn't help being drawn toward the old abandoned farm house that stands guard at the entrance to our dirt road. So many times I have walked through it, standing in each empty room lost in wonder of its memories of long ago. How many bare feet have run scampering across its front porch, crossing its thresholds......? What are its stories of a time gone by and long forgotten?

Just beyond the view of its kitchen window grows an enormous fig bush; quite frankly, it is now a fig tree. I LOVE fresh figs.....not to mention the damage I can do to a package of Fig Newtons............so to discover this fruit bearing jewel was a bonus to an already amazing morning. There must have been 999+ figs from top to bottom of this tree. And while not all were ready for picking and eating, at least about half were............the challenge was where to start! With the ample rainfall we've experienced this summer, many of the ripened figs were literally bursting on the very branches where they grew. Joining me for a late morning fruit feast were dozens and dozens of ever so soft ~ fluttering ~ butterflies along with dragonflies, various bees and beetles and the morning chorus of cicadas and locusts with that all so familiar frenzied rise and fall of their fevered pitch.

With the slow walk back down the dirt road home, I took in as much of the fragrant air as I could inhale ~ lacing my mind with the memory of breakfast with butterflies and the best start to a weekend that will long dwell in my memories.

Have a great weekend, Y'all!
Harriette

If you would like to share more of my morning walk, you can view my photographs at South of the Gnat Line (www.homeschoolblogger.com/Harriette/).

You can email me at: southofthegnatline@yahoo.com