There’s no better way to start the day than having coffee on the sunporch while gently rocking back and forth watching the colorful birds begin their early morning search for worms. This reminds me of the old saying that the early bird gets the worm. I have always been an early riser. The worms usually got away, but I caught lots of other things just from being up and ready.
The breeze is just right coming through the windows. I take out my morning paper but soon put it aside to watch Mother Nature’s outdoor spring show.
Redbirds, bluebirds, blackbirds and wrens are among those who keep busy pulling worms from the clover field next door. Their whistles and tweets make music as they carry their catch back to their young nested in the nearby trees.
But no bees are buzzing in this clover patch. How about that? I remember when you couldn’t walk barefoot near clover blooms. I had a lot of swollen toes from stings in the summer.
Summer was barefoot time for us. We could hardly wait for the first day of May when mother let us shed our shoes for the first time. We could walk barefoot today in the clover and not get stung. Something big has hit the honeybees and almost wiped them out. Jars of honey are not so easy to get today.
I remember taking a quarter to the farmer down the road and carrying home a quart jar of honey. Many liked the sweet syrup poured over hot biscuits. Cold cereal replaced the hot breakfast biscuits at my house long before the honeybees left town.
Now there are hot biscuits on every corner around here and they are good too. You can have them as you like plain or stuffed with something. Our biscuits were plain or stuffed with butter and jelly, never sausage and eggs. But that was when we all had special places around the table at the same time for three meals a day and our sausage and eggs were served on a plate. That plate was washed three times a day and always ready for the next meal.
Were those the good old days? Yes, they were and we didn’t know it. It’s easy now to sift through many years and tag the good old days.
They’re the ones we remember most. And being forgetful isn’t all bad when it’s the other times that are lost. Most are not worth remembering. We can put mornings like this on the list and tag it one of the good days.
What more could I ask for than good coffee, lots of birds and a special place to watch Mother Nature’s spring show after a weekend filled with family and friends.
Kathryn Yarbro is former managing editor of the Lincoln Times-News.