Morning has broken

Dawn arrives later each day as autumn approaches inexorably.  I reach the park just as light from the sun’s rays begins to show behind the trees on the horizon.  Blankets of fog lie gently over the top of the ragweed, swathe the trees in grey cotton.  Dew hangs everywhere, bejewels spider webs, saturates grass as well as my shoes when I venture off the trail.  The air is cool, with the promise of warmth later.

The sun peeps over the trees, the colors deepen, each new hue calling for another photo to try to catch the moment.  I walk a few steps, stop, and take a picture:  sun, fog, spider webs hung with diamond-like water droplets, drops somehow clinging to the ends of every leaf and grass, covering the flower petals.  Walk, repeat.  Walk, repeat.

As I look around, joy wells up inside me. The phase “her heart swelled” precisely describes what’s happening.  I want to jump for joy. The grin on my face is so wide it’s a miracle my skin doesn’t split.  I wander along, drunk on the every-changing spectacle.  I want to hold the moment forever.

Long before I get to the concrete trail that crosses the dam and spreads on either side, I can hear the geese ceaselessly honking.  There seem to be about a hundred and, as far away from my camera as possible, three white egrets carry on their search for sushi, paying no attention to the noise.  Every minute or so, the geese get agitated, then a small group honks and takes off, the river a watery runway for the avian planes.

I stride back, fog slightly dissipating, sun rising, adding new color to the lightening sky.  Each moment brings new beauty and joy.  When I reach the van, I have to sit for a time, gathering myself together, to come down so I can face the rest of the morning.  I’ve been blessed with almost an hour of soul rejuvenation and morning has broken.

I’m in traveling mode once again so if I seem to be ignoring you, it’s not on purpose.  You can keep up with me on my blog, at least later in the week when I’ve had a chance to relax.