Tea with the Birds

November 12th

It’s a cold Sunday morning here by the riverside, where I live since my mother’s passing away.
I’ve always loved these winter days. We can feel the fresh breeze that makes us want to grab the blanket we have in our cosy bed to keep ourselves warm, so it feels like we’d never left it.
I brushed my hair and washed my face. Then, I went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for two. For me, I put two small croissants in the oven and a kettle full with half a litre of water in the cooker.
By the time I was filling the croissants with strawberry jam, the water started to boil, the steam went by my face and Twinkles, my black cat with bright light eyes (two tiny shining stars), jumped from the fridge to the ancient kitchen table made out of Portuguese oak tree wood, and from there to the floor; it went to the balcony’s closed door and tried to open it. I smiled and said, “What a great idea Mr. Twinkles! Just because it’s cold it doesn’t mean we can’t have our royal breakfast outdoors”, I opened the door, “Go on, and take your seat. I’ll sit next to you in a minute. Let me just prepare your tuna fish.”
And so, I took Twinkles’ tuna fish, my croissants, the kettle and a dark pink mug outside and put them above our green metal table. The grass and flowers’ smell caught my attention as I walked to pick some herbs for my tea. I collected them in the palm of my hand and tried to preserve its fine aroma in my nose so it would get in my mind, and it worked! I began to feel incredibly calm while I was listening to the birds singing, as I hadn’t felt for such a long time. I was living that moment and I wasn’t alone. As the river that runs near my white house, that has fish and sea creatures in it, I had in me various feelings and thoughts that contacted peacefully with the surrounding nature.
Now I see why my mother used to call these sweet, but yet powerful, moments “Tea with the birds”.