There is nothing more wondrous, more miraculous and mysterious than watching the break of day. I wake up refreshed, my troubles forgotten temporarily, body renewed, strength regained. I have a fresh mind hopeful for a fresh start. But 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 glance at the first sunbeams stealing through the filtering pine needles, brightening every leaf 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. 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. There are shades of rainbow colors all over the ground wanting to be touched.
I glance at my home’s empty rooms, slowly being flooded by sunlight and recall my children’s sleepy heads years ago, still on pillows unmindful of the magnificence nor the consequences of being late –in school, at work. Those were years ago. And I used to get up to cook for them.
Above all the beauty, a pitcher’s toss away stood Saddam, a a chip of the old block King Kong, king of Longlong, 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