Hello Sunshine

"Gah, what's that bright-ass light in my face?"

Oh. It's the sun. Hello. I'm so glad to see you, sunshine.

Thanks be to God. For real. I was spiraling downward, taking my grown fetus and husband with me.

To make things even more beautiful this morning, the sun is melting the ice that froze every blade of grass, every limb of every tree---pecan, crepe myrtle, cypress, oak, etc. 

Every bush, every berry, everything. 

As a prize for enduring the darkness and ice, the sun is shining through the prisms of glass adornment on nature, crystals dripping, raining down little sparkly diamonds.

The sound of rain in the brilliant sun, everything shimmering like an overdone dinner party out there--the trees with their white, stiff wigs melting. 

I can't get enough of looking at it. Right at it. That's where the fun is. 

I do realize that all my pics are of my backyard now.

Makes me want to go put on some jewelry and walk around with lipstick on. But of course, keeping in my sweatpants and huge T-shirt, because let's face it, these are the only things that fit/are comfortable to wear for me. 

For a lassie who's just about freaking 10 months pregnant, I am just recklessly in love with this scene, sitting by the fire, and completely inspired. Staring at my little, warming Narnia in the Delta. 

I haven't written in a while, and might not for another while. But I'm feeling the love this morning and sending it to you, if anyone still reads this blog about nothing. 

And my thought for today: Observance. So much to stop and stare at. To observe and see. I want to notice. Not only the sunshine, affecting every little thing. But hold steady to thoughts and emotions too. Dig in, scoop them up with sunshine, melting these things like crystals, softening the hard. 

We shall see. Can't wait to say hello to my own little sunshine thing. 

Watchful,

Liza Jane