This past week, my big dog Phoebe and I happened upon the sunrise. There it was, the fire in the east sky on a very cold morning. She looked at me while we were walking as if to say “C’mon Mom, it’s already started! Let’s get going.”
She was right. It was an awesome sight and I had the feeling of being drawn to an incredibly large campfire in the distance.
As Phoebe happily smelled her way through our walk, catching up on the latest nocturnal news, I noticed a peace and stillness about the frigid morning. So quiet, I had to settle my loud thoughts.
Even though we’ve walked this path a million times, something about the purples and pinks mixed with the frosty air and sharp cold drew me in. I felt like I was in a church, a reverent, graceful nature church. All around me, an abundance of deep orange calm was silently melding with the passion of purple. Secret winks of cheery pink nestled below a bashful ocean of blue. Yellow…bright flickering yellow waking the horizon and my soul.
Since the cold began, I haven’t been out for my usual “dawn of the day” walk. Today I am grateful for the reminder of… how much a beautiful sunrise can warm me from the inside out; how the peace and stillness of the outdoors can steady me for the day ahead; and how my senses can awaken my soul to the beauty of one single solitary moment on this Earth.
walktalk 