A person could definitely get used to greeting the sun every morning. The frost was even heavier on the ground this morning before sunup. Each step had that crunch of frozen grass. Each breath was an even thicker cloud than the ones from yesterday.
Other than the “keeer-r-r” of the hawks greeting the suns warmth as it caressed the tops of the trees where they waited and the lonesome whistle of a far off train, I was alone on the edge of Mustang Bayou. The mists on the waters course was heavy this morning. The image as the suns rays started to light first just the upper tendrils was almost magical. And as the sun rose more and more of that writhing snake of fog was touched by it’s rays until the entire waterway glowed.
I stood for a long while soaking up that first warmth under the cloudless blue of the heavens before wandering back to the house and the warm coffee.
And so the day began…
