Last week I was at the post office in our little hamlet and it was warm and sunny, that mellow winter time sunny. Bright blue sky with a few little cirrus clouds far above. Rains of previous days had washed the town clean; the streets, the trees, the buildings all clean and freshly laundered looking.
A lizard had come out of hibernation and lay in the sunlight, torpid on the warm concrete sidewalk. It was close enough to the yellow mums planted by the ladies club that it could run for cover if threatened, but there was no threats that day.

I could hear banty roosters crowing, I like the sound, as if they were proclaiming "It's a fine day and we're lovin' it"

There was the distant sound of children playing and calling to each other. The sound of the American flag in front of the post office flapping idly, its metal grommets clinking against the flagpole. The air fresh and clean, the sun so warm on my cheeks, I took off my sweater. I wanted to do like that lizard and lie down on that warm concrete and bask in the joy and comfort of warmth and peace and gentle sounds.

That's what I call soul food. susil