Just a thought.

I awakened this morning with little fanfare.

No blaring alarm and blanket of darkness to greet me, just the sun pouring in through my open window telling me it was time to get up.


...so I did.


The house is quiet.


Little and Chase are off to parts unknown to test a 'new' john boat. Big will soon be South cooking up skillets for hungry tourists. (Last night was prom so he's sleeping until the last minute) Big Daddy is still bed bound, but plans to get the back yard mowed before it becomes habitat. We have plans this afternoon for a trip to the annual Artwalk.


I have the whole day off you see. Not just part of it...but the whole day.


So I am engaging in my new religion this morning. I am eschewing church and sipping coffee on my back deck before I go visit Prissy.

Why are morning sounds so different from evening? The frogs are silent and the birds are noisy, chatty creatures. They keep screaming at each other about this as that. Occasionally one offers up a song of apology and their blissful harmony starts up again.

The world is at peace for a few minutes-except for the lone bark of a dog. But even he gives a joyful bay rather than a disgruntled one.

I smell the scent of morning. I can't tell you what it is only that is indeed sweet and can be inhaled to the bottom of my lungs.

I'm not often up early enough to enjoy the mist on the valley and feel that dampness on my face, but I am this morning.

...and I'm glad of it.