Tag Archives: mornings

Need Sunglasses

Beautiful out there this morning. Warmer than yesterday and breezy. As I stepped out for a walk with the pups, I noticed a faint sweetness on the wind, something blooming nearby, but what I’m unsure of. But I think it’s citrus from the yard across the street. It’s quieter this morning than it has been, just the sounds of our footsteps and the breeze in the trees. The skies are clear, more clear than they’ve been in a while, and I stop and look up at the stars. I’m not the best at reading stars, but I do recognize a few things and my eyes pick up on the Big Dipper in the west. No sign of Orion this morning, though… but it is a different time of year, and the stars change with time, much like ourselves. Quiet, quiet quiet… as we move through the neighborhood, it seems like the city has calmed down from that frantic, time-change, clock rush of just a few days ago. The city has figured out that, no, they won’t be late for work… push that snooze button. As we turn for the loop home, and we crest The Hill, I can see the Tehachapis silhouetted against the impending dawn… a long lumpy horizon against a Parrish blue sky… I just stop and stare… and there, above, like an exclamation point, is Venus… And the peak of Bear Mountain points straight up at it… I stand there, soaking it all in, relishing this moment… and I see the faintest orange creep up from the horizon… It’s so clear out, the dawn will be piercing, and sharp, and crisp, in just a little while… better bring your sunglasses.


Woke up a little grumpy this morning… But the pups didn’t care and wanted to go for a walk anyways. Who am I to argue? It is crisp and clean out this morning… But for some clouds in the skies, making for gorgeous sunrise, I can see all the way to the circle of mountains at this end of the valley this morning. It looks like the Tejons got a dusting of snow at some point. I didn’t think it had been cold enough for that these last few days… But I could see all the way back up there to the pass and that ridge between us and L.A. and there’s a nice white sprinkle, like confectioners sugar across a cake…


A beautiful morning and a great morning for a walk with the dogs. Cool and breezy… And the skies! The clouds in the east were aflame with color from the approaching sunrise. Deep crimsons… As we walked, all I wanted to do was stop and watch… So I did. Several times. Each time I stopped and turned to the east to see how the dawn was unfolding, the colors in the clouds changing… Reds… Then orange… And then peach… And I wondered, as I walked with the pups, I wondered… Am I the only one to see this this morning? If these moments weren’t so fleeting, would I still stop for long looks? And as it passed, I wondered, over the next hill, the next mountain, is someone standing there, now, looking to the east, watching the approaching dawn, mesmerized as I was, breathing in all this glory?

Pink and Blue

I got up and walked the dogs before dawn…. The moon, both this morning and yesterday morning, was big and beautiful in the early darkness, hovering in the west, done with its nightly journeys… The dawn was big and open and blue, oh so blue…. With one lone pink contrail bisecting the skies overhead, piercing into the east. I love the way the sun, before it arrives, lights up and colors the clouds in the morning… And so often, these visions I get to see, these smiles from the Universe, from Spirit, only last a few minutes, sometimes not even that… And I stop, me with the dogs, and I look up into the morning and just watch, just look, and I say thank you…


It’s cold out there this morning. There’s frost on the roofs and on the lawns. The doves huddle close on the phone lines, quiet. Yet the sun comes, dancing golden in the tops of the trees. It’s dancing on the lawns, it’s dancing into our lives. The light warms the roofs, it warms the streets, its warms our hearts.

A Cold Walk

It’s cold, and dark, and grey… and still the birds sing… There’s no doubt it’s winter, as the pups and I go for a Friday walk. It’s a little later than usual, and we have the benefit of some daylight on the streets. Everywhere there are mini drifts of leaves, in the gutter, against that fence, beside the parked car. The trees are all mostly bare now, but for a few of the evergreens in the neighborhood and the one or two trees that always outlast the first frosts. Mostly there are just bony fingers, pointed up, reaching into the sky, as if to claw at the clouds, to tear open a whole in winter. And the birds sing. And sing. They’re happy despite the impending rain. A neighbor passes on their way to work and smiles at the sight of me and three dogs, and waves. We continue, trying to avoid the drive time rush around us on the more heavily used streets. And we turn onto the quiet little road with the curve over the hill. You know the road, I talk often of this road. It’s the road that starts the walk towards home. It’s the road that crests, the road with the view of Bear mountain. But today there is no view. There is only the grey clouds and there is only a chill wind that makes me wish I’d brought my scarf, and I pull my corduroy jacket a little closer, and I try to pull my hands up into my sleeves a little farther. And we head back down the hill, to the turn north, and onto another busy street, and on towards home, and light, and warmth, and hot coffee. And still, the birds sing!