I was hesitant on opening the door to morning. Knocking ever so quietly I almost hadn't heard it through the fogged pane of my awakening. I first took a finger and moved it across the glass to clear a spot for looking out. Not finding anything in the darkness beyond of more interest than the warm curl of the bedcover and the dent in my pillow, I tried to ignore it, but like a determined salesman it kept up it's rattle. So, giving in, I put on my bathrobe, heading to the kitchen where Manna waited impatiently to start her day, the warm curl of her kennel long minutes ago losing all it's flavor for a pre sunrise romp in the yard.
Had I known the script the sun was beginning to write while still hiding behind that eastern curtain of dark, I maybe wouldn't have been such a reluctant breakfast guest. While watching the high half moon running with the scattered clouds, and listening as the mockingbirds discuss there promises in different languages, I noticed just the slightest tint of red on the underbelly of the clouds to the west. It wasn't long before the flower bloomed in a spectacular fashion; a pallet lit with crimson and purple against a pearl blue sky. I envied some friends who live high on a hill to the east who's windows must be filled with a spectacular panorama of light, our front porch being the best place I can catch the show. Holding onto the porch column with one hand and leaning out affords the best alternative for viewing. But, It was beautiful anyway. Manna was happy just to sit in the doorway, more than ready for me to come back in to tend to important stuff...like her breakfast.
What was interesting is, as I was in Zen mode absorbed in the increasing change of the spectacular to the east, I turned for a moment to the west. There, waiting like the patient eyes of a dog ready to play, was a more subtle, but beautifully arranged fusion of sky, clouds and reflected red sunlight. A wet juicy watercolor running down the paper of heaven. It lasted just for a few moments, then faded as the eastern sky became more intense. I was glad to have noticed such an unintended surprise.
I do tend sometimes, to only see what's played out before me, without making the effort to turn around to see another view, missing possibilities of new horizons. It's easy to to do, to be absorbed in the present picture of things, whether the picture comes from an external or internal source, it's essence being positive or negative. I will try to turn around more often, whether it's to the waking knock and ever changing surprises of Nature, the open door of a loving family, or the outreached hands of a friend. I will need to be reminded of this from time to time I'm sure.
I think Manna is reminding me now that it's time go out and throw the ball.
Sounds good to me.