Here Comes the Morning Light

Back to our roots, way into the past, a cabin in the woods, is the home all of us would seek.  A special place, small and cozy, wood burning stoves and privacy.  A retreat.  To live out on the land, to harvest crops, to drink from the river, to splash in the pool, counting the geese as they fly overhead, listening to the songs of the nesting birds.  Sharing the planet with nature.

The bright stars twinkle, the moon comes out, the flood of moonlight fills the path.  A heavenly band of celestial white, winds it’s way across the night.  Warm and gentle, the night breezes pass, bringing with them the scent of  fragrant lilac blossoms, close by.  Earth and night, warmth and fragrance, the delicate soothing quiet.  The songs of night are different to hear, the chirping chorus of frogs, toads and crickets.  Songs of the swamp, the marsh, the pond, all in their own beat and tune, all an orchestra of night song.

Oh sleepy dreams of castaways, aboard your own steered yacht.  The chorus of the lively night, to dream and dance upon.

Our own small world of escape to the land, to build that piece of a dream.  To dip your feet from the end of the dock, to splash and learn to swim.  The cottage on a lake of dreams, with fresh, clean water in which to swim.  Back to the land, from where we once were, with cabins in the forest, and the overpowering allure of fur.

Still the sounds of the city surround us in our sleep, while light is cast from lampposts and stars stay hidden in the dark.  The chorus of the evening is street traffic, the occasional voice or barking dog.  Far from the stillness and quiet of the evening chorus of frogs.

Leave your cozy nests of slumber, wander out into the light.  To capture that great moment, when the daylight enters the night.  A changing world in which to view, a captured moment of rest.  These are the times of the morning, when daybreak rises, that  the world is at it’s best.  So sleepy heads, don’t nod off, as day casts the night away.  Some of your finest adventures, start at the break of day.

The city still sleeps as the world renews itself, awakening with the morning sun.  Drinking tea in that splash of splendor, as color comes with the sun.  That moment, when the night fades and darkness becomes light, the world changes from the black and shade of night, to the brilliant colors of the pallet, with the dawn of new daylight.   Hearing the songs of rising songbirds, chirping and laughing together.  A fine new day of summertime, bring on the new adventure.

written by Dr. Louise Hayes

June 26, 2018