March morning

Janie is relishing the sunlight this morning.  It patterns the floorboards of the living room in bright squares that slant kitchen-ward.  She nuzzles up to the largest pool of light, tail twirling, and turns a series of tight circles.  Then she falls belly-up in a furry crescent against the light's sharp angles, her tail describing a diminishing arc across the gloss of the upper righthand corner. 

I love watching this early morning geometry from my corner in the kitchen, my fingers curled around a mug of coffee and my toes toasting in the warmth that whispers up from the register on the floor.  It is March with a vengeance outside, tangling the windchimes in the yard and snapping the flag across the street.  Inside, however, it is still and shining, and the heat purrs and the coffee steams and Janie's paws twitch while she dreams. 

I have been spinning to-do lists in my brain as I've sat here basking, and suppose that now it is time to do them.  Just one more mug of coffee, and I'll begin.  Cross my shining heart.