Mornings

mornings - 1

05.06.18

“Do we really need much more than this?  To honor the dawn.  To visit a garden.  To talk to a friend.  To contemplate a cloud.  To cherish a meal.  To bow our heads before the mystery of the day.  Are these not enough?”  –Kent Nerburn

I’ve always been a morning person.  Which is a good thing, as the days get light earlier and earlier, and a boat out on the water at 5:00 a.m. becomes part of the dream that awakens me at dawn.  I don’t fall back asleep, yet I don’t mind just lying there, taking in the light through the shutters, feeling how good the pillows are, and knowing I can just take a nap later in the day.  Such a nice thought–an afternoon nippy-nap–a comforting consolation for being someone who is about to turn 71 in a few days.

Like the quote, “all things seem possible in May” (Edwin Way Teale), dawn can feel just like that.  I’m not sure that it ever quite works out this way, but there is such expansiveness in the early morning.   And, May mornings are glorious, so full of promise for a day with some sun, some rain, some new flowers, some fluffy clouds.  A hummingbird came to the feeder, moments after Don hung it on the porch this morning, and the leaves are opening bright green in front of our eyes.  Dandelions are dotting lawns and I’ve spotted the first goslings, floating between their proud mama and papa on a little pond near where I run.  My to-do list is long and ambitious at the start of these days, but when I sit by the lake at day’s close, I have never made a dent in those plans.  In the times where I am at home with myself, I do a little reckoning and ask  “do we really need much more than this?”  Moving along here, in my eighth decade, it’s likely that answering this question of myself is at least as important as honoring a new dawn.  Add a nice cold beer, a pair of kitties at my side, and it’s a pleasant exercise to conduct, here in my birthday month.

 

 

 

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