A Peaceful Morning Gives Me a Peaceful Heart
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A Peaceful Morning Gives me a Peaceful Heart
The noonday sun shone hot, but the shaded porch and cool westerly wind made sitting on the rough cement steps bearable. The breeze brought the smell of freshly mowed lawn to my senses while gently lifting the American flag hanging from the porch directly in front of me, making it seem to hover. The coal ash driveway splits the evenly mowed lawn in two, lined by towering maple trees.
An aged wooden walkway led from the driveway to the porch, bordered on the right by large rhododendrons, and to a moss-covered brick patio extending under a large dying maple tree surrounded by a border of mulch and large rocks. In the middle of the patio stood the milk house, a concrete block building where the farmer used to keep milk cool in the old days, its tan paint desquamating and wooden doors deteriorating. Between the milk house and the rhododendron, a large wooden picnic table filled the rest of the patio.
My eyes gazed straight ahead and beheld the aesthetic landscape of a young forest rising up in an ocean of grass, only broken by a stately row of pines. To my right an old unpainted horse barn sat nestled in brush and trees, its shiny metal roof reflecting sunlight into my eyes. A tiger-striped cat slowly rambled toward the porch, as a raucous blue jay squawked overhead whose sound mingled with the faint barking of a dog in the distance. A bluebird flew to its house, a small box positioned on an old wooden fencepost.
A faint, chugging sound broke the stillness, signaling the approach of a freight train. Its vintage bell rang as it crossed the small country road, the engine sending reverberating throbs through the ground, then unhurriedly dissipating into the distance, splashing the surrounding area into a quiet stillness once again.