Storms turned the skies to September blue, hostas turned gold, the burning bush flamed, cleomes burst seed and the last of the blue hydrangeas changed to rosey attire.
Some seasons of life I’ve enjoyed the life of a night owl, but I’ve come back to treasuring early time. So I search and photograph and go back into the cozy warmth of kitchen only to be drawn out again knowing the wonder of early light is happening. Moving my chair to face the east where cloud play is illuminated in the rising sun, I huddle into an old quilt with my mug of coffee. And watch. I hear the traffic hum of those on the go and I begin to hear hammering and saws nearby. Work calls but I stay listening to quiet bird calls beginning to sound through the yards.
I lower my eyes to write and suddenly feel like there is a disco ball in the yard! The aspen leaves wave their quivering morning excitement filtering and shattering the light into sparkling pieces as the sun rises through them and the birds sing applause now. The coffee chills but I still sit and wonder why I am not here every morning when dawn calls hope and promise for the day.
With hot coffee, I return to find my quilt like stained glass. A breeze stirs now and the sound of leaves dancing close fills my ears and I huddle again into the quilt and move my chair into the expanding warmth of the ever rising sun. All too soon these days pass and the exuberance of October is upon us!