It's hard NOT to get up and bound out of bed at 5:30 on a morning like this. The air, rinsed clean by wind and a heavy rain last night, is sharp and spikey, foreshadowing a cold front that will move through the region the next couple of days. The means visquine for Tigerella and the rest of the gang tonight.
The sparrows, god love 'em, are in an argumentative mood and are letting the world know all about it. I can hear some of them pattering around inside the gutter, where they've set up housekeeping for the summer. Not sure what happens when it rains like in did last night, but I suppose they'll figure it out.
I am especially drawn to the light at 5:30 these spring mornings. It illuminates everything, accentuating new blooms in the backyard, a pair of goldfinches picking at a seed sock in the cherry tree, and finally, the grapefruit I've sliced open because, well, I got up early enough to carefully section out its sweet, astringent fruit.
As sun moves east to west across the yard, it spills into the kitchen window and catches the freshly cut, glistening fruit for a breathless moment. My breakfast becomes a priceless jewel. A treasure worthy of a queen -- and I am that queen.
It IS a good morning.
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