Another Mountain Morning

There is a miracle that happens every morning in the mountains…a little after five. as the evening heads to bed and the morning comes alive. As the stars, the moon and the dark of night begin to fade…there is a stillness in the air and in the silent, tranquil interlude…you gradually become aware that you’re about to witness one of natures awe-inspiring gifts… as you watch the ebony blanket of evening slowly start to lift… and out of the evening’s residue the morning begins to peek… and somewhere in the waning darkness…the first bird begins to speak… She clears her throat at first, and I imagine, flaps her wings then standing tall upon her branch she begins to sing. Then another bird and another join in…adding their voices to the song until the mountain is a chorus of birds…harmoniously singing along. As night folds up her blanket…the day can now expand and you barely have time to catch your breath as sunlight skims across the land. Every space that was cloaked in darkness is now bejeweled in light and you smile at how magically and effortlessly…day replaces night. And you feel lucky you were there to witness…a brand new day arrive… and blessed to have experienced the wonder…when the morning comes alive.