Sitting in this dark room, I look outside, the sky is grey, there is no sun, and no birds singing. I remember summer, the mornings sitting outside cross-legged in the still damp grass, eating a bowl of junket. The cat always tries to steal it but, it will have to wait its turn. Overhead the birds sing in the trees and in the sky. Their symphony provides a background for my thoughts as they wander about. What has happened, what will happen? What do I need to do today? My thoughts continue to wander though, pondering odd questions, or just staring at a particularly interesting tree or bush. It is a restful time for me, these mornings, where I can collect my thoughts, and prepare for the day ahead. The cat jumps up in my lap, since Iím still holding the bowl, it will not be cheated for whatís its due. Well at least the cat thinks it is perfectly entitled to anything it can get its paws on. Absentmindedly I scratch the cat between the ears, I remember how it once scratched me bloody while I was sitting in a tree and it got scared. Not that I blame it, my hands were just blocking its escape. Already the sky is high in the sky, such it is in the summertime, the sun often rises when I go to sleep. A light breeze rustles the leaves letting the pattern of light coming through them shift and dance as I look upon them. The shadows cast on the grounds match the dance of the light in perfect harmony. What could be more perfect than a day like this, peace, quiet contemplation, a cat to scratch behind the ears and the beautiful nature all around you.