At the park

I got a kiss from a golden retriever puppy.

I saw dandelion fluff floating

Train tracks. Crickets.

Tall redwoods, and just when I was feeling very small a man passed on a longboard and made me feel even smaller.

Paths curving, and paths straightway and nothing ever really is as clear as  a path to follow.

Coral bells, wild roses and poppies

A roufus sided towhee and a red winged blackbird

A red racer racing to safety.

Shadows and light playing

I saw a ladybug fly away home

There was sunlight shining through leaves and boughs.

There were children laughing and dogs romping. Why can’t grow ups romp like that?

There were feelings and thoughts

Wondering AT and wondering ABOUT

A melancholy but peaceful heart

The perfect start

Wake up.
Look at the clock.
Yawn, stretch.
Don’t think about anything but pulling the covers back over my head.
Close eyes.
Open them again.
Hmm.
Maybe.
Peek outside.
See the sun.
Open the blackout curtains.
Sing a song to myself
Make coffee.
Go back to bed with coffee.
Wake up gently.

Then it doesn’t really matter where the day goes after that.

There are infinite variations to the perfect way to wake up. 
Waking up with the sound of water. Rain on a tin roof. Waves. Water streaming over rocks. Sometimes a book makes its way in. Or music. Maybe a breakfast after. The sound of laughter from an earlier riser.

The best ones involve waking up with someone else. A lover, a group of friends.

Still.

Any time you start the day with sunshine and coffee in bed, it is perfect.

‘Morning!


  

Give and take

I was driving to work one partly cloudy morning this week, and realized that the sunrise was already over. 

I am not an early riser by nature. Sunrise is not a time when I prefer to be out of bed, but since I start work at 7:00, it means an early morning commute. During much  of the year, I drive to work in the dark. In March and April, driving to work at 6:30, I get to see the sun rise. It’s a time of year I look forward too. A sign that Summer is on the way.

It’s nearly full daylight now when I drive to work, so my sunrises are gone for a while. 

Don’t feel too bad for me–there are plenty of other compensations. When I lose the daily sunrise, I gain evenings on the deck drinking wine on Tequila Hill with my friends. I get walks in the park in the sunlight after work, the smell of sunshine on my skin. I get tan legs. I get to read on the patio. I get light and heat. 

You don’t get to have everything you love all of the time. You do get to have a lot of different good things, but they come and go. According to the seasons, or whims of nature. 

Sometimes you trade sunrises for rainbows. 

You get cherry blossoms along with rain showers. 

It all works out.