House Finch, Coneflower and Flames

1. I am holding my summer morning vigil, sipping coffee on our front porch. A common house finch perches on an electrical wire between our house and the street. Back lit by the sun, he serenades with canary-like melodies. He flies close and clings to the thistle sock, his crimson head and breast illuminated by the low morning light. As church bells ring out, he pauses from plucking the seed from the mesh of the feeder, as if he is stopping to appreciate the song. I remain motionless, afraid I may frighten him away. He is beautiful and I want to share the joy of the morning church bells with him.

2. I study the beauty of a purple coneflower before it actually comes into full bloom. It is magnificent in all its shades of green.

3. An Independence Day party, surrounded by friends, old and new.  A young boy takes a midnight swim, then warms himself  beside a fire burning in a copper bowl.  Hands spread over the flame, he raises and lowers them as he is mesmerized by the fire. No one is watching save for me. Ever the mother, I keep a watchful eye. I stand at the ready should he put himself in danger.