His Morning Secret

The plum tree blossoms are white and pink and reddish-magenta by the lake downtown. The Blue Bonnets and Indian Paintbrush are blooming by the sides of the roads. The hills along Barton Creek are a patchwork of greens: spring green on the Cedar Elms, dark forest evergreen on the Hill Country Juniper, and orange-reddish-brownish green on the Live Oaks.

The orange-reddish-brownish Live Oak green means they are dropping their leaves and pushing out pollen. It means he wakes up stiff in the morning and waits for an hour for the shower and coffee to have their effect.

But before the shower and the coffee can banish the stiffness of allergies away, the other two must leave, and he must walk outside to say goodbye. In his stiff, pollen-stricken state with sandpaper muscles and swollen face, he must walk outside.

So there he stands saying goodbye, puffy and stiff, looking like he is new-come out of bed, which he is. He stands there and waves and tries to make himself smile. He stands there with tassels of Live Oak hanging over his head, in his pajamas and T-shirt.

He stands there like this, in full public view. And the neighbors all see him puffy and swollen and creaking and stiff, standing in the morning sun while they drive off to work or school. They see him standing there in his pajamas at 7:15 and again at 7:50.

His morning secret is out.

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