Nope, it wasn't rain

I woke early, as I always do, but there was no glow illuminating my surroundings. Each night I tilt the blinds open because in the morning I love the way the sun slashes thru them setting off dancing shards of wonderment all thru my sparkly things and around my room. Necklaces hanging on the wall-mount, crystals overhead, the stained-glass lamp on the dresser. After a moment of disappointment [no dancing colors today for you, my friend],  my next thought was, “Joy of joys! We must be getting rain!” You live on the desert floor in the summertime for more than a few weeks and you think about hocking the family jewels for a first-rate downpour. So I got up and headed to the window expecting a gray day and rain.

What-ho? Not a rain cloud in sight. Instead, every inch of sky was covered with the most brilliant, imaginatively placed collection of white clouds I have ever seen over-head. They were slightly bunched in long parallel lines, snuggled up close together, and they went on, it seemed, forever. I heard my own intake of breath. Tugging on my scrubs, and scrubbing sleep off my face, I grabbed Marley’s leash, coaxed her out of her bed, and took to the door. At a scosh before six we were standing out on our second floor porch and I could see in every direction, without end, the same pattern above me. It was inspiring. I stood there for several long moments letting it rest above me.
The Tao te Ching says, ‘Observe the wonders as they occur around you, don’t claim them. Feel the artistry moving thru…and be silent.’ And so I was: silent.
‘n in that silence, I knew The Tao got it right.

I enjoy sunrise from my bed most of the time, except when camping; where the wilderness, in all its crisp, fragrant morning newness, just takes me by the hand and we walk away together. I’m different in nature, and this morning I felt all those feelings of being far away from everything; and in that quiet silence I was part of the sky.

Marley of course, had had just about enough of me; tugging her leash, she was more than ready to get moving. We made our way down the stairs, but not without throwing a backward glance over her shoulder that seemed to say, 'geesh! what’s with you?'
[wednesday morning, august eleven, i just might never forget it.]