Monday, September 12, 2011

Sunrise of a New Day

First light fills the sky. Oaks trees not yet visible as green. Scent of beeswax on the air. I imagine it is fir balsam but I do not know for certain. A summer scent. Rich, spicy, hopeful. Intoxicating. I love to be up in this dawn hour. Everything seems possible. An entire day, 86,400 seconds, ahead of me. Cool morning. I wear my heavy pink bathrobe outside on the deck with my cup of coffee and the writing notebook that has been companion to many such morning for decades now. Wrapped up outside on the deck I watch the clouds color, grow, alter, disappear. The sun rises over the ridge at the halfway point between summer high and winter low. A flock of robins has been visiting. Working the grass where the sprinkler waters. They fly off into the treetop of the giant madrone at the far side of the pond. The call from a bird I do not know moves around the forest. A bell like tone. A single note. Clear. Strong. A tibetan bowl comes to mind and when I first heard this tone I thought someone was creating the sound. But it moved too far too fast to be human in origin. Something new to learn about. One of the many mysteries of the forest I love. Today I will pick blackberries. Perfect luscious ripeness perfume to the tongue. Pie!

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