happy hour

Do you hear that?

Neither do I.

My belly rumbled; the fridge hummed. A fly buzzed by. The leaves beyond the open doors rustled, and someone -- something -- in the distance was singing a happy song.The keys beneath my fingers went tap, tap, tap, and then it ceased. For a moment, all of it ceased.

SILENCE.

This morning, after THREE MONTHS of summer vacation, my children returned to school. Cole is now in Kindergarten, Maya is in first grade, and I am in heaven. The sun is shining, fall is in the air, and save the rumbles, hums, buzzes and taps, my house is quiet. REALLY quiet.

Any minute, Paul and the kids will return home with stories, lunch pails, jackets and volume. I will welcome them, and I will be mostly glad. But until then, I fully intend to quietly sip this moment from the lap of my chair.

Bright light from outside fills the room and warms my face. I hear nothing but my tapping, and I can feel that I am beaming. There goes that fly again.

Ahhhh.