MY QUIET MORNING

First light.

Quiet.

A restless night of worry about things I can’t control takes all hope of sleep. I can choose to stay in bed or get up.

I choose getting up, annoyed that my sleep is ruined and probably my day.

LacyDog and TuxCat stay with their dreams, neither interested in leaving warm nests, so I sit alone in the still-dark sun room sipping my first cup of coffee.

I’d forgotten that magic happens at this early hour.  Through the back windows I see the bare limbs of the tall oaks reach upwards, silhouettes against the sky. The early birds begin their songs and the frogs way down below croak along.

I watch as fingers of light touch the world,  lifting the covers of darkness. Stars whisper goodbye and the sky welcomes dawn.

Before I know it, light touches me, too, and there’s acute realization that I’m watching the handiwork of God. As I allow the serenity of morning to fill me, anxiety lessens and my busy brain with its endless list of things to do, calms.

I become quiet, mind and body, as the first rays of sun chase the shadows and make diamonds of leftover water drops from the night’s rain.

It’s a new day and a clear sky promises  dry weather. I feel good, as though I’d just swallowed a tonic for my soul. The  miracle of this morning makes me smile.

I’d like to think I’ll do this every morning, getting up to watch the day begin. Knowing me, it’s not likely. I love sleeping in.

This morning, though, was special, a gift, the answer to a prayer I didn’t even pray.

Thank you.

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