It was the sky that captured my attention first this morning while Tikka were taking our walk.
It was that very clarity that calmed me, its very painterly aspect, and the broad generous strokes of light and cloud. It was as if the sky was beckoning me to welcome in a new day.
The last few mornings, last few days actually, I have been distracted and unfocused. I have been unable to still my wandering and raging thoughts, to accept the quiet, to just be in solitude with the world. Perhaps I was just more rested this morning, and so more willing to ease into calmness, ease into being.
When I reached the top of the hill, I notice that hint of gray along the horizon was fog wrapping itself around the peaks of the hills and ridges, and as the sun rose, it gradually thinned and lifted, like ghosts, or wisps of thoughts and dreams, not lost forever, but like memories, resting along the fringes of thought.
And we walked. Quietly in the early morning air. Birds singing, admiring the flowers, the drops of dew on the morning grass, the combined scent of honeysuckle, and magnolia punctuated by grassy greenness.