Mrs. Teabody Embraces June

And what is so rare as a day in June

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,

And over it softly her warm ear lays:

Whether we look, or whether we listen,

We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;

Every clod feels a stir of might,

An instinct within it that reaches and towers,

And, grasping blindly above it for light,

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.

~ Lowell

Good Morning, Gentle Reader, and Mrs. Teabody can only hope that your part of the world is under the same enchantment as the world just outside Mrs. Teabody's  open (!) window. The diminutive and sweet Carolina wren has the morning  microphone, and he is nearly as delighted with the day as any human can be. Do you know this little bird, Gentle Reader? He is trusting and nearly fearless and his song - - while not of the most uplifting variety - - is one that  says that today is a day of great importance, one not to be squandered or ticked off.

Mrs. Teabody's father was often absent through the weekdays of June as his work kept him fully occupied miles and miles away, but how he loved such a day as this -- even if the day ahead was just as crammed with duty and obligation and toil as was any working day.  It is not hard to see his face as he sat at the kitchen table waiting for his breakfast to be placed in front of him and saying to anyone who happened to be near, "It's a great day to be alive."  Say the words, Gentle Reader.

It's a great day to be alive.

It is.