Up with the morning light – nothing to see quite
yet, at least that willing grabs attention away from the comforts of a bed;
warmth, rest. As morning's time continues its jest into the sky – mute with
clouds and heavy fog, the shapes of reality form: sun bleeding through, first
in individual rays, then in entire shafts, columns – ever expanding layers of
light; good 'ol Roy G. Biv in action. This scene taking no more than minutes on
the clock facing me.
Stepping
outside, the noticeable nip to the air brings to memory the march of autumn;
though it is the last day of July still, and a dip into autumnal weather of
this sort seems a bit premature. We'll call it a cold front for lack of a
better, more examined explanation – whatever its exact term, it is certainly colder
than the temporary heatwave of yesterday’s briefness. Quite welcome in fact,
for I’d rather be cold than hot; a man can always take layers off, but skin, on
the other hand, doesn’t peel quite as easy without other bodily complications,
et cetera.
A bunny, munching in the early morning stillness
upon grasses damp with dew follows gravity’s course downhill a few more hops,
measurable paces beyond the house trailer my love now calls home. This is a new
space for her – for both of us. Not wanting to be surprised, yet at the same
time looking for awe and amazement, we have explored the few corners and nearby
roads of this new space in a span of hours and minutes from last night till now
– with this morning’s movement about being, by far, the easiest: locate front
door; approach the front door to the trailer, unlock, open and exit entryway;
there awaits the porch, whose dimensions in the early morning light are a new
experience for her and I. For at least in this life, that I can remember, I’ve
never been in this exact spot, this exact place, this exact time.
Oh the sunlight pouring through the green leaves
of a nearby Locust tree; the words that try to form to describe this scene of
light mixing with cloud, white and grey layers dissolving to expose more light:
yellow in theory, green in reflection off all that surrounds; a portrait of
life in motion.
With a minor reluctance - hidden, recessed – I
return into the trailer to assemble my few items: a book, a note, and gather my
pack for the bike ride home. Just like she, I have a day of work on the clock for the greater good!, and spending time
on this lovely morning watching bunny rabbits and sunlight streaming through
cloud layers is not an option without consequences of the gainful employment
type.
Mounting the red and two-wheeled steed I call a
bicycle, I find an easy rhythm in the relatively flat terrain of road between
her place and mine. Fortunately, the ride there is filled less with human
obtrusion and more with nature’s bounty: a flowing river headed on its course –
down, down, across? – giving rise to rolling hills, clad in trees, whose auxiliary
ridges and ripples seem all apart of a greater plan. With sun at my back as I
ride, I cannot help but feel light, feel love and a great sense of beauty
surrounding. So much so that I float with ease up the final hill blocking
access between where I live and the world I came from; a hill that typically
grinds at me, my disposition, in the heat of afternoon. Surely this positive
inspiration swelling in my breast, issuing across my face in a large and smug
smile has contributed to the ease and lightness I feel throughout.
Arriving home, I take the necessary minutes to
answer my body’s morning needs before sitting down to peck away at this digital
device – striving to capture the moment in memory’s temporary shadow before,
like the morning fog and mist, they evaporate – materializing back into the
universe from whence it came. Grateful am I for this experience, for this
immediate purpose this morning, and for the inspiration of a natural world too
large to lovingly capture in words.
Blessings of sun and crisp morning air to all,
Alan