Perfect

It's perfect.  This moment in time.  It's absolutely perfect.

It's one of those magical spring days when it's cool enough to open the windows, yet warm enough to leave them open.  So rare in the South where winter usually dives headfirst into summer. 

It's quiet.  I haven't turned the TV on at all.  The only sounds I hear are the soft singing of crickets, Rylea contentedly crunching her chewy stick, the almost inaudible click and scrape of my knitting needles.  An occasional car drives by. 

Jesse snores softly at my feet, the warmth of his fur comforting.  Inviting. I sink my toes into it.  Cozy.  Snuggly. 

Off in the distance a frog chirps, bringing a momentary wave of homesickness.

In a world in which I am constantly bombarded by noise, these moments are few and far between.  I must enjoy them while I can.

These few moments of quiet contentment.

These few moments of peace.