Foggy day......
I used to hate it.....actually "hate" is too strong a word.....I used to dread it.....but then, maybe even "dread" is too strong a word too. I guess what I could say, is that I strongly didn't look forward to taking the dog, sweet Rosie, out to her yard, first thing in the morning.
You know, sometimes it's really cold, or the wind is blowing, or it's raining and wet. I'd wait at the gate for her to finish her business......hurry-up, hurry-up, hurry-up!.....so we could go back inside to the warm, still, dry house.
But it's interesting. A few years ago, I started really listening to the morning. And feeling the day. And noticing all the differences, day to day, in that quiet, peaceful early time. Paying attention.
Trying to become "one" with nature and the weather, I guess. That sounds flakey, I know. But it's true, if you make yourself relax and really feel everything around you at this one spot, day after day, you notice the many variations of sound and light and comfort.
About a month ago, I thought it would be neat to record this spot throughout the year with photos, but it sort of ruined everything. Taking pictures, I was more concerned with the photo than being "in the moment". For a couple of days I got a few shots, but missed the total concentration of the atmosphere of the new day. So I stopped taking the photos. And now, I just focus on it, the best part of the day.
I go out there at different times, but usually pretty early. Sometimes I see the moon, full, between the silhouette of the branches of the maple tree. At this time of year, the maple blooms against the dark sky are fat and make a squishy ending to the branches.
My neighbor over across the way has those tiny lights that are twinkly-cheerful..... even though I know my neighbor's lives have been anything but cheerful for many years. Still, I'm glad they have the lights.
The sounds are the best. Wind clashing the leaves of the tall dry grasses together before we cut them down for the new ones to come out. Or a dog barks. Or I hear the mechanical clanking sounds at the car dealership nearby. Why are they starting so early in the morning? Where is that lone, early-bird car heading out there on Woodcrest, tires smacking on the wet road?
Lately the birds are up at all hours like me, forcefully chirping, hurrying spring along, so hopeful.
On Wednesday mornings sometimes I hear the recycle truck, or the trash truck crashing the trash into the back.
Once, I had a conversation with the trash man, there in the dark of the very early morning. I couldn't believe he was so friendly and cheerful, giving me information about the recycle man yet to come. He gave me a real uptick to my day, a great surprise.....he must like the early morning as much as I do.
Even the rainy days are good if you don't hunch yourself up against them, but just enjoy them knowing you won't melt, or die out there. And in the light from the other neighbor's lampost, the drips on every branch and leaf sparkle.
When it's raining, it counts as well, that it feels so warm and good to come back inside.
Ah, morning is here......
