Up is down.

Lately, I've been realizing that there is absolutely nothing on television. You know the saying: fifty-million channels and nothing to watch. I spent my whole life relying on television for my entertainment. Now, I am happy to report that I have rediscovered my upstairs porch. Sitting up there feels like being a little girl in my own tree house. The Cherry, Spruce and Sumac trees are completely filled in now, and I can't see my neighbor's house at all. It is so private and quiet up there at night.

Down below is the Sakonnet River with Portsmouth on the far shore. Most spectacular of all are the sunsets. With this cooler, less humid weather we've been experiencing lately, sitting in my tree house is a dream. Instead of laying in the grass looking up at the clouds, I sit up high on my porch and watch them slowly float by. Last night, I saw one formation that looked like a huge troll doll. Remember those? It was very creepy, but hilarious. Then a new formation was created and for the first time, I realized that up can also be down.

While looking up at the beautiful cloud formations in multiple shades of blue, grey and white, I saw one that made me feel like I was high on a hill looking down at a secluded stretch of sandy beach that meandered along small mountains or large sand dunes with sea grass on top mirroring the shoreline. I must try to paint this image. It was glorious!  I almost forgot where I was.

I was looking up and down at the same time! It was truly magical. Unfortunately, I was afraid that if I ran downstairs to grab my camera, the sight would be gone, so I took what pictures I could with my phone. Of course, I don't have the hardware right now to download any pictures off my phone, so they are useless. Instead, I had to commit this unique and lovely image to memory.

Then the clouds cleared and the beautiful, bright half-moon shone in the peak of the pergola roof over the porch. It was so beautiful. I am truly blessed and grateful.