The Morning…

I sit facing the sun. At first, the sky blushes with pride in its beauty to come and then prouder still it brightens. Its rise now two hours old… the sun feels warm and good on my upturned face. A slight breeze teases the pine needles in the towering tree I see profiled against the bluing sky. The wind caresses my face adding to the feeling of warmth as it ebbs. I feel life moving through and around me.

morning geeseTo my left and above I hear the Doppler sound of geese; perhaps landing or taking off from one of the nearby ponds. I hear birds warbling. I don’t know what kind. The honks of the geese, my favorite morning sound; the chirps and melodious buzzes coming from the surrounding brush and trees… all are music to me and beautiful.

I’m reading from John Steinbeck’s The Pearl. But it now rests face-down on my lap. I’d just read of Kino’s perfect morning and must set his aside to enjoy my own.

I take a deep breath and though my day began three hours ago, in the predawn darkness, our day is here. Behind me, inside the house, rises the sound of my two dogs and soon my daughters and wife—the Song of Family and the call to be with them.

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