Friday Morning Walk

We stepped out into the dark with only the morning star and the gentle light of the impending day to greet us. I could see the faintest hint of a deep red on the horizon, draped on the shoulders of Bear Mountain and the ridge line to the north. The neighborhood was already alive with the noise of Friday, an exclamation mark to the week that had come. Birds, trains, dogs, garbage trucks… everyone was awake. No sneaking quiet this morning. It’s funny to me how different each morning is around this same time. The pups and I walked along, with me looking over my shoulder to keep an eye on the dawn. More cars, a gardener and his truck, I pull the pups close and stick to the gutter as we walk the busier streets. We turn to the east, its the hill with the fire hydrant, the one that looks out across the east towards the mountains. The colors in the sky dazzle me… I stand and just look. Deep reds, oranges a hint of peach and pink… It almost hurts to look at it, to take it all in, and for that moment I feel like I am the only one in this universe, and this show in the sky, it is all just for me… As I am standing there, thinking this, looking at the spectacle of color, it subtly changes… the colors grow softer, the intensity diminishes just a little. I am awash in gratitude… That was the apex, that moment, there by the hydrant, there with the dogs oblivious to anything other than the smells on the grass, and it has just passed… The rest of the walk is literally downhill… And we turn for home, and I think of coffee, and as I walk along the final block to home, my nose catches just a hint of cooking bacon on the air… and I smile.

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