A Perfect Day

I do believe I just experienced a perfect day here on my country mile, at least so far.  There are thunder clouds building to the south and west but even the rain they might bring could be the perfect ending to a perfect day, as it would save me having to water my garden more thoroughly than I did this morning.

The perfection began with the discovery that the day was warm, sunny and breezy, whereas I had expected it to be dismal, cool, and rainy.  That just goes to show we shouldn’t take the weather forecast as gospel truth.  And actually, my perfect day began the night before, when I slept nearly eight hours, worth celebrating if you’re a chronic insomniac, as I am.  Good days come so much more easily when you’re not exhausted.

In this perfect day I had time to weed my garden, replant the cucumbers that were destroyed by the hail a couple of nights ago, water and fertilize my flower pots, run several loads of laundry and dry a couple of them on the clothesline, write a pretty good first draft (if I do say so myself) of a column for ChristianWeek, and rest with my feet up on the deck for an hour or so.

The sun was blazing hot but relieved by a stiff wind, which cooled things down just when I thought it was getting too hot and kept the worst of the biting insects at bay while I worked outside.  Later, fluffy white clouds broke up the intensity of the heat as I sat on the deck listening to bird calls and periodic train whistles.

 It was truly a day to be content … and indeed I was, content and grateful.  Grateful for the sunshine, the wind, the birds, gardening chores, time to write, and time to pray and dream.  Grateful, too, for this sheltering green space here at the end of my country mile, a beautiful, green-forested piece of the world that I can call home.