Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery, page 6
Chapter 4
I sat at my kitchen table, holding the mug of tea in my hands, looking out at the feeder in the side yard. A blue jay hung on the side of the sunflower seed feeder, hogging the seeds, swallowing them whole. A brave chickadee swooped to the opposite side, grabbed a hold of a single seed, then flitted away.
A movement caught my eye, and I smiled as a small flock of juncos descended on the cracked corn I had scattered on the larger rock at the edge of the property line. Winter was coming. The foraging of the small half-grey, half-white birds was one of the clearest indications we had that snow was just around the corner. Luckily I had already put away all the lawn items last week before Sandy descended on the region, so I was ready for the snow. Last year we had the infamous Halloween nor’easter which blanketed us with nearly a foot. Perhaps we were lucky that it was November fourth and we were still snow-free.
I sighed and sipped my tea, rolling my head along my shoulders. I hadn’t slept well last night, and once again my yoga routine in the morning had failed to bring me peace. My hands still smelt of rosemary from where I had run them through my container plant before beginning yoga practice. I breathed in the pungent smell.
At last I grabbed one of my hemp bags and began filling it with the leftover cookie packs from Halloween. I had only had nineteen kids this year, in three large groups. This left me with quite a few goodie bags which needed to go to the food pantry before they ended up in my stomach. I knew that part of the lure was that the food pantry was located in the Sutton Senior Center, and I was curious to see what the talk was there about John’s death.
I sat at my kitchen table, holding the mug of tea in my hands, looking out at the feeder in the side yard. A blue jay hung on the side of the sunflower seed feeder, hogging the seeds, swallowing them whole. A brave chickadee swooped to the opposite side, grabbed a hold of a single seed, then flitted away.
A movement caught my eye, and I smiled as a small flock of juncos descended on the cracked corn I had scattered on the larger rock at the edge of the property line. Winter was coming. The foraging of the small half-grey, half-white birds was one of the clearest indications we had that snow was just around the corner. Luckily I had already put away all the lawn items last week before Sandy descended on the region, so I was ready for the snow. Last year we had the infamous Halloween nor’easter which blanketed us with nearly a foot. Perhaps we were lucky that it was November fourth and we were still snow-free.
I sighed and sipped my tea, rolling my head along my shoulders. I hadn’t slept well last night, and once again my yoga routine in the morning had failed to bring me peace. My hands still smelt of rosemary from where I had run them through my container plant before beginning yoga practice. I breathed in the pungent smell.
At last I grabbed one of my hemp bags and began filling it with the leftover cookie packs from Halloween. I had only had nineteen kids this year, in three large groups. This left me with quite a few goodie bags which needed to go to the food pantry before they ended up in my stomach. I knew that part of the lure was that the food pantry was located in the Sutton Senior Center, and I was curious to see what the talk was there about John’s death.
