Early Morning Sunrise

Shifts of air found the tiny air pockets of the wood in my house this morning and made for a makeshift cottage on the beach, creaking and replacing the subtle movements of its frame. I was awake at five, wide awake, refreshed even though I had anticipated a full eight hours of sleep. Satisfied with a mere five, I opened my eyes to look up at the shaded ceiling of my bedroom. My mind was free of the turmoil that has plagued me lately, the myriad of competing stresses of every day life. For once, it was void of thought and even more importantly, it was bare of any pressure. It was five o’clock in the morning and the house was beckoning me to move, but the peace of solitude made steady my thoughts. After some time, again void of thought, void of to-do lists, I lay there staring, not willing myself back to sleep nor exasperated that I didn’t get a full night.

The coffee was warm on my throat and I sipped it in the shadowed kitchen. I leaned against the kitchen counter, resting my lower back against it, my feet crossed in front of me; the coffee cupped in both hands. I stared hypnotized at the floor with nothing on my mind but the delicate sighs of the flexible house. Not even the dogs stirred up this solitude; they just slept on, allowing me to reflect without reflecting, to think without thought.

Bracing myself for the cold slap of wind against my bones, I stepped out onto the back deck, a cup of coffee in hand. Immediately, I was pleased by the freshness of the air and the obscure reminiscence of the beach at sunrise. I sat on the deck chair and propped my feet on the table in front of me, resting my cradled coffee on my chest. The shifts of wind weaved through the trees, and with my eyes closed, I felt the air and tasted it and smelled it. Its movement through me became a lullaby, a mother’s caress as it held me in its hands and rocked me to peace. The subtle waves whitewashed against the shore as I sat on the sand, hugging my knees to my chest and stared at the horizon; the only knocking on my door of responsibilities was from the beckoning waters before me. Life moved in slow motion, my mind as well, as the ocean flowed back and forth, waning and waving. My eyes steadied themselves on the horizon as the sun rose above glimmering waters. The vacation I’ve longed for was granted to me and time had no place in this pleasure before me.

The coffee, having done its job, allowed me to stand and face the day, embracing it. This short span of being in the present, of being in my imagination, of being in peace, is a gift. A gift that delights me because I know that I will continually repackage and unwrap it throughout the entire day.