Mom

Sitting on the porch as the sun is setting in the dusk. A blanket draped over her shoulders as she kept her nose in a book. Occasionally, a gentle breese will blow by, and crickets would chirp. Birds would tweet. She paused her reading to take a sip of her sweet tea. Marking her spot momentarily, she picked up her glass and sipped from the rim. She placed it back on the table as she noticed out of the corner of her eye that she spots you walking to the house from a trail in the woods.