Just
Before Dawn
“Just
before dawn I have the world all to myself.”
Terri
Guillemets
In
Esterillos Oeste, Costa Rica, a big red rooster and I shared the
predawn hour on the patio. He, crowing for all he was worth, and I,
digging around inside my skull to find a subject for the day's blog. He
strutted about with great confidence in the company of his adoring
hens, pecking in the sand, and loudly announcing the coming day. This
morning, in Birmingham, AL, just as the sky is glowing pink in the
east, I hear the red rooster's echo—somewhere in my inner city
neighborhood someone keeps chickens! Liza hears him too, and grumbles
quietly to herself.
As
much as I resent waking before daylight, I love coming onto my porch
and having the world to myself. I love hearing the sounds that are
only audible before humans are up and about with their machines and
traffic. Today, there will be lots of noise here, as men scrape off an
old roof and put down the new. They will saw and hammer, and create a
deafening, but necessary, wall of sound that will drown out all of
nature's symphony. But this morning, I heard a rooster crowing, and
the individual songs of birds. I watched the sun begin its assent,
and the sky go from pink, to lavender, to pale blue.
The
hour before dawn is a sacred, hopeful time—a calm beginning that
sets the pace for the day. I hope you were up to share it, too.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
No comments:
Post a Comment