cows in a mist
I must admit that no matter how hard I try to obey my children and stay in bed until 5:30 am, every once in a while I just can’t take the waiting and quietly tip toe out into the dark, still house already anticipating the coming hours.  It’s absolutely, hands down, my favorite time of the day.  I’m sure the stillness of the universe at that time of the day seems a mere reflection of the peace I so desperately seek for my own soul.  No anxiousness can be found anywhere in the cosmos at that time; the sun will rise, the birds will wake and sing, the dew will flee and the day will unfold just as it should.  I’m told that anxiousness can never be found in nature, no matter what the hour but I am rarely present enough to be considered a credible witness. Maybe the morning is just the only time I make space around my thoughts and with my soul cushioned by the quiet I can actually see beyond the past and the future and catch a glimpse of the present moment. I don’t get a view of “now” very often but when I do it takes my breath away and forces me to stop and stopping is not something I do very well.
Even though I know my children are just trying to turn me into a “normal” person who actually gets more than 4 hours of shut eye a night and owns at least one pair of “normal people” running shoes I am standing my ground on this front.
To aid in my defense I’m beginning to take pictures of the mornings to be used as exhibits. Exhibit A and B were taken during an early morning walk just as the fog was breaking and Exhibit C is a photo from last Tuesday when a tiny baby fawn wandered away from mama and found his way into my garden in the early morning hours.
Maybe rewards like this will push me to practice the art of living in the moment and just like learning to spin a sweater from a pile of dirty wool I might be able produce a life that actually holds together and is able to keep me or someone I love warm.