break of day
This morning I got up at 3:30 a.m. to drive my son to the airport. I’m not sure I’ve ever been up quite that early, although I have stayed up that late. But it has been a long time before I was up before sunrise.
After I dropped him off, I parked and watched the sky turn from black to denim, with Jupiter and a pregnant crescent moon to keep me company. I watched as the light crept slowly up the sky, stripes of clouds showing themselves gradually in silhouette against hues of pink and purple.
This world before dawn is a quiet world, the darkest of dark and filled with empty spaces. I was not lonely in this dark, nor afraid. I was caught in the silence, with only the moon whispering questions of eternity to its backdrop of stars and black sky.
I was content to sit there as witness to this changing of the guard, the cycling through of another night, the beginning of another day, each as precious and unique as this one, and think about all the dawns that I have slept through.
I wondered at all the beauty and the whispers I have missed.
And even so, I smiled.
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