I had already written my blog article for today, but couldn’t resist writing another after my morning walk…
Burr, the weather reporter just said it snowed last night, but the ground was too warm for it to stick. Do I want to brave the cold this morning to tromp through the fields with Suzie and Riley, my two Golden Retrievers, to watch the sunrise? The view in the sky on the walk down the lane to get the newspaper told me, “Hurry up! Bundle up! You don’t want to miss this sunrise!” The sky was already painting her hues of purple and pink and blue.
Away we went, over hill and vale, watching our footing so as not to land our feet into the water hidden among the over-gown shafts of winter wheat. There is no human being around for miles. Despite the cold breeze, the birds are singing as if heralding in the Spring. Their happy tones tell me they are certain Spring is just around the corner.
My eyes stay glued to the sky. Every few seconds the colors magically change as the birth of the sunrise is on her way. All of a sudden, as if someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turn my head to see the almost-full moon high in the sky behind me. Over the hills we tromp, hurrying to get to “Mount Olive” before the sun manifests before us. “Mount Olive” is the term I affectionately have given to the highest point in the countryside. From Mount Olive the “girls” (as I call them) and I can see off into the distance for miles and miles. From past experience we know that the sunrises from Mount Olive are gorgeous.
All the way to Mount Olive I turn to peek at the moon. There she hangs, high in the sky, with wisps of indigo blue clouds painting a beautiful canvas around her. I think of the words from “Memory,””…she is smiling alone.” Smiling, she is. Off in the distance the girls are sniffing a hidden opening in the bank. This is the doorway to someone’s home. Next to the opening is a pile of what looks like old mattress stuffing. How remarkable that they have collected the materials that some human has dumped and used it to build a cozy cabin in the tunnel under the ground.
Finally we make it to the peak, arriving just before the sunrise. I pull out my phone and send a text message to my dear friend: “Standing on the top of the hill, out in the wild of the coal mine property, which I call Mount Olive, thinking of you…the sunrise to my left and the moon to my right. What a glorious time we are living!”
Alas, here comes the sun, slowly arising through the multicolored layers of clouds around her. The girls are now standing at my side, totally perplexed as to why I am no longer moving, as if glued to this spot at the top of the mount. At heir urging, I turn to walk away and begin the voyage back home, when something seems to call me to go back to the spot where I had been standing. There, way down the hill and off in the distance, stands a beautiful deer, frozen in her spot, staring at us. I stand still, admiring her and the beauty of it all. Suddenly she turns and off her white tail bobs in the distance.
On our return journey I can see the heads of wild turkeys just over the hill, off in the distance. Oh no, it didn’t take long for the girls to see them as well. I try to make some noise to warn the turkeys. Away the girls run after the turkeys. Off they fly, one by one, each just in time to get out of the reach of the dogs, squawking all the way to the tops of the nearby pines. I feel remorseful that we frightened them so.
The sun, rising higher and higher in the sky, seems to be saying to the moon, “It’s OK, I’ll take care of it from here. Go help another part of the world to rest in your moonlit glow.” We merrily walk along, almost completing our walk when I spy another deer, way off in the distance, as if the perfect bookend for the magic show we were so blessed to have just witnessed. Ah, the beauty of it all!
