Rushing In

I remember the crisp smell of morning when I was a little girl.  The grass, a magically vibrant green, covered in morning dew, glistened as the sun rays reached across it.  The air, soft in the first moments of the day.  A new beginning.  It was calmer when the sun was rising to the top of the sky.  The shadows spread outward, away from you. Calling you to follow.  

When you live near water there’s often fog on warm mornings.  It’s a time when you get to stand within the clouds.  Feel them pass through you.  Be.

Bird songs fill the air.  Some sharp.  Some melodic.  My old friend, Bob White.  All happily making morning music.  Great beginning to the day.

I alone experience these sensations for I am only one.  I do not share my person with another.  I cannot feel for anyone but me.  My body.  My mind.  As a child I sensed these things.  As an adult I absorb them.  We are all alone.  We are all free.  



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