Every Bird and Branch

It’s been many a day since I last saw the morning sun shine in my back yard… The grass speckled with dew, the rose bush blooms seemingly fuller and more robust, the patio chairs and swinging bench somewhat more contented by the hushed breeze. All the colors are more vibrant, more vivacious, as if the morning sun has a touch that animates the world it douses in golden purity. Even the plants on my windowsill stand a fair bit taller and more proud, emboldened by their addition to the polychromatic symphony. Mayhaps that is the secret to living well – seeing the morning sun. I am in a considerably better mood today than most days, and not just because I’m working from home for once. I attribute it to witnessing the morning sun.

I’ve been waking up rather gruff and grumpy in recent months (so sad to acknowledge that the timeline is on the scale of months now), and I have not fully understood why. Just as I identify myself as a Caucasian male from Detroit, MI, I have always identified as a morning person. It’s part of who I am and always has been. I’d blame my job but I don’t absolutely abhor it, and I know work isn’t going to be a carnival. I do somewhat blame traffic… 45 minutes to an hour in very abrupt stop-and-go traffic is nobody’s ideal way to start or end a workday. But that wouldn’t permeate into other parts of my life, would it?

So what is it that makes me so darn unpleasant all the time? That is the question I cannot seem to answer. Yet today I find solace in the morning sun and the way it illuminates everything outside and inside me. I am breathing deeper, calmer draughts in thoughtful, chipper sighs. I am running my fingers across the surface of my wooden table just to notice its softness and beautiful imperfections. My eyes even move from surface to surface with a tad more ease, the rush of the world disseminating with the glorious, golden glow.

Mayhaps it has naught to do with my life, how I live it, or where it is conducted that causes me to be such a grump. Mayhaps the lack of morning light in my life leaves me with such bitter disdain if for no other reason than its wonderful, innate quality of unlocking some of the most lovely beauty in this world, waking every bird and branch to join in the polychromatic symphony, and my ignorance to it all. Mayhaps.

Mystery