Due to some shifting of responsibilities and the impending school year, I was (quite reluctantly) up at 4:45 a.m. this morning. My husband can attest that I am one of those Annoying Morning People…but this seemed a bit excessive, even for me. But in order to do All The Mom Things, I had to rearrange Life.
So there I was, watering the herbs and flowers in the still-dark-of-nightness. The moon cast an otherworldly glow about the yard, and the scent of rosemary was thick in the still, heavy summer air. The insect filled sounds of night had not yet given way to the early morning buzz of activity. The only sound was the gentle lapping of water onto parched earth.
As I moved about the yard, pitch black gave way to shadows. I wound my way from the mint patch to the bergamot, and the moon travelled with me. Then as the misty silver orb edged its way towards one horizon, the slightest golden glow started to burn on the edges of the other.
Strange how the dawn sneaks up on you. Like children aging and hearts mending, all seems static and timeless until you turn around only to find that you baby is going off to college or that the Thing You Could Never Forgive is now water under the bridge.
It made me think of what Jamie tells Claire in Drums in Autumn:
“It’s only a moment, but ye feel as though it will last forever. Strange, is it no?” he said thoughtfully. “Ye can almost see the light go as ye watch–and yet there’s no time ye can look and say ‘Now! Now it’s night.”
So many things are like that…only identifiable by the presence of its opposite. We don’t know how bad we felt until we feel better. We don’t appreciate what we have until we lose it.
By the time I made my way to the back garden to let the chickens out to sing their Morning Greeting Song, the dawn was breaking through the treeline and chasing away the shadows.
In a week full of health scares, and work drama, and tire blow outs, and money worries, and more Back To Schoolness than I can handle, it was a moment of perfect peace. For just a moment, there were no bills, no deadlines, no morning commute.
There was nothing but me, in a still moment of joy, as evening gave way to day.