There was no way to tell what kind of a morning it would be… except that it had turned cold. Yesterday’s sunshine had been a feint, designed to instil a false sense of security and the rain had a suspicious solidity as it fell to earth.
Dawn hadn’t yet begun to smudge the horizon, a tawny owl called eerily in the gloom and small things skittered unseen through the undergrowth. The small dog, no more than a patch of darker blackness in the shadows, had found a scent and refused to come back before she had investigated. Puddles crunched beneath my feet as I followed her into the little wood.
The darkness deepened. No frost here in the shelter of the trees, but the mud sucked at my shoes, reluctant to release each footfall. Twigs and stubborn leaves brushed my face, catching in my hair, skeletal fingers and unseen hands; clichéd nightmares moving in the mist.
I laughed, the sound slicing the silence. If this were a horror film, people would be on the edge of their seats and calling me all kinds of idiot for walking into the sombre copse. For some reason, though, the mornings do not hold the same potential for fear as the onset of night. And I have the small dog to look after me, not too far away…
…who yelped. A crash in the bushes. A low growl. My heart stopped… and the silhouette of a deer bounded past into the thicker bushes. A flash of pure magic, as if I had stepped through the Veil into another time and place.
The small dog, hot in pursuit, paused briefly by my side, just long enough for me to catch hold of both her harness and reality… I was already running late.
There was just time for a quick coffee before I had to scrape the ice from the car and leave for work. The first glow was playing on the horizon. A river of white light rushed towards me; behind me the river ran red; future and past illumined by the lights of cars flowing to and from the town.
I drove east, feeling myself part of a stream that flowed to the staccato rhythm of the windscreen wipers, wishing I had not had to break the spell of the morning. Wishing myself anywhere but on the verge of another day governed by the mechanical metronome of necessity. Yet, the magic goes with us, even into duty.
As I drove and the silhouettes of the trees began to separate from the blackness, the sun began to colour the sky, drowning the limited light of the cars that illuminate only their own direction. Cocooned within my life and habit, I watched as a portal opened in the clouds. It seemed as if humanity were deep within the shadows of a cavern, scurrying like ants in the penumbra, yet looking out onto a landscape of limitless light.
Perhaps we are.
This post certainly gives the reader a reason to pause and think, Sue. I hope your eyes are feeling a bit better now.
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They were glad of the rest,Robbie. I just need to keep resting them a bit, I think.
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thanks, Jaye
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I needed a lovely moment or two this morning, your post was most welcome, Sue. This cold (or the flu), is doing its level best to floor me, but I stubbornly refuse to give in, not completely anyway… It won’t last forever, even though it feels like it…
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It is a bad one this year. Hope you can shake it soon. X
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Dosing up on paracetamol and throat lozenges, I just wish I could lie down without coughing all night!
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I found it easier to sleep propped up on the sofa .
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So do I, but my old bones don’t agree…
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I know that feeling…
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It’s always wonderful to have close encounters with nature. Ruby and I have also come face to face with deer, they are so beautiful. We often wish the norm of duty didn’t tie us down then suddenly we get caught up in the magic of the moment.💜💜
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Without the duty, we might not remember to appreciate the beauty ❤
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So true 💜
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Fabulous photo and story!
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Thanks, Bette… it was a special kind of morning.
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Beautiful! And to think that the magic shows up every morning. I enjoy the magic that closes out each day.
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And every dawn and sunrise is new and unique 🙂
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Yes! Such a gift to us all.
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Every day 🙂
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🙂
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Reblogged this on Stuart France.
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