And as I watch the clouds roll in, I’m hopeful for the rain. I’m hopeful for the change they will bring and the new day ahead.
It is easy to get hung up on the small inconveniences life brings. Like rain or having a bad day. It’s even easier to waste time trying to control every aspect of life seeking perfection, but life isn’t perfect. Life is as unpredictable as a Summer storm and the truest test of character is having the ability to roll with fates unpredictable flow. Adapting and persevering is part of the human experience.
Watch as it flows with the morning breeze. Watch as it is wisked away by outside forces. It’s future is predetermined. Its expiration date has been set and yet it still stands tall, uncaring or unconcerned.
Today it waits for the sunrise. It enjoys it’s majesty. Tomorrow it could ffall and disappear under an emerald current. Or be carried away to make a home for a bird. Gone, leaving in it’s place an empty seat for all who remember it.
Soon a new blade of grass will come to replace it. One with new memories, ideas and dreams. And although it might share the same fate, this one will be different. But this one will stand proudly too.
When I was younger I used to rise before the sun. I would hear the ringing of the alarm clock in the other room and listen to the shuffling that followed as the house filled with the sent of instant coffee. I would pretend to sleep as my mother would come and gently raise me from feigned slumber. It was time for work.
I remember as we drove through cold streets lit with sickly yellow light from old lampposts. I watched as my mother wiped the sleep from her eyes as the radio played the local Spanish station.
I liked to watch the houses. I watched as the army of those who woke before the sun sit in their cars. Watched as the smoke of the exhaust floated up and mixed with the morning mist. I wondered if they also had a sleeping child in the back seat.
I remember pretending to fall asleep as we turned the corner to my grandmothers house. I liked when my mother would carry me in. I used to watch as her headlights disappear as I drank hot chocolate that was always waiting for me as the kitchen filled with the scent of handmade tortillas.
That was years ago. Today I still rise before the sun does. But today I sip on black coffee as I watch the sunrise reminiscing on the good times had.
The world is still at 6 am. The water crashes on the bank and the light breeze brushes up against the flowers as they open up, ready for a new day.
The sun reaches over the horizon. It kisses the clouds first. Corresses with a warm and loving touch and colors them pink and orange and red. The sun streches over the clouds and fills the sky with purple and red and orange.
The birds come out, they scavenge for food and sing to sun and thank her for the new day.
The sun reaches down to gently touch the water, the earth, and those crazy enough to wake before the sun does. And as the day warms, as the streets fill with people and cars and skys with birds and planes, remeber that the joy of life comes from apprciating the little things.
