There is nothing more wondrous, more miraculous and mysterious than watching the break of day. Watching it daily from my terrace on a chilly morning, leaves me refreshed, troubles forgotten temporarily, body renewed, strength regained. I get a fresh mind hopeful for a fresh start.
To glance at the brightening day, slowly pushing off darkness to the twilight zone can instill that much needed push to face the world. I marvel at the first sunbeam stealing through the grotesque branches, filtered by pine needles, brightening every corner until the unseen forest floor.
The once-shrouded tree shadows dance and spring to life as gentle sun rays erupt and blanket the horizon. I sit and watch beauty, mystery, miracle at its best.
Every minute fresh green leaves become golden; pink, red and yellow flowers glisten in carpet display as soft sunlight touches the dew that slept overnight. There are shades of rainbow colors all over the ground wanting to be touched. Birds awaken and a chorus begins..bees and butterflies all in motion, seemingly unknowing where to go or what to do.
The lemon trees heavy with fruits kiss the ground in sweet praise and surrender as Rhode Island Red roosters’ crow puncture the air. This is morning breaking. The beginning of another promise.
I glance at our room, slowly being flooded by sunlight and Grace’s sleepy head still on pillows unmindful of the magnificence nor the consequences of being late –for work. I too forget that I am cooking.
Above all the beauty, a pitcher’s toss away stood Saddam stretching his full frame, very much like his father King Kong, but different in many ways, peering at me through the sunlight with questioning eyes.
It is this special and one of a kind phenomenon that happens daily in my terrace view and nothing else can come close to comparison. Yet every day seems better, each sight more beautiful, each moment more priceless.
The sun’s embracing warmth against the nippy morning air, the cool pine-scented breeze and sky painted by the Master Painter Himself are unmatched.
Kings will pay the most expensive ransom for such a scene. Poets will dream to put it in their minds and words..
And it is just there for me everyday. Free. For all my taking.