I’m welcoming the day from my stoop.
A soft breeze pushes away the humidity left over from last night’s storm. The sun rises, reluctantly shining through the remaining clouds.
A jetlagged cicada chatters from a nearby tree, and an eager learn crew starts mowing entirely too early.
The flowers I planted are in vibrant bloom. A little green hummingbird notices, flying over for his bottomless mimosa breakfast.
The hummingbird stops and stares at me, still in the air. Then it chirps and goes back to drinking its nectar. It seems auspicious, a harbinger of joy and happiness and wonders to come.
I’m in, little hummingbird. Bring on the magic.