She has 39 leaves now.

More every day.

The leaves tilt; the sapling leans in the slightest of breezes

The oven bird and red-eyed vireo have the floor

The irises are in bloom

Bernie protegees have won their races

I’ve just come from a swim in the pond

My heart has allowed me a lap and a half

A layer of thin clouds keeps the sun just strong enough to warm me and hold the bugs at bay

There’s a rivulet of maple syrup in my oatmeal

The coffee is strong.

I am in heaven.

She is in heaven.

We’re having breakfast together.

Let’s do it again Monday.