Just a note before I go into the day. 

I watched the dawn this weekend.  My quarterly tribute to every ancient celebration of the season.  I laid out the labyrinth, walked it with my shadow teasing the dear welcome sun.

Let me feel the dawn each moment I reach for it.  The clear brisk air from the lake.  The solemn mountains waiting to bow to the light.  The shimmering lake moving like a river.  The brilliant bustle and trilling songs here–there–up–soaring of the birds who rise to sing the sun up from her rest.  The hawk who appeared solid and unmoving in the far tree; then disappeared suddenly.

The eternality of morning.  May it enlighten my heart.