WARNING: This post contains optimism and descriptions of scenes of natural beauty which might be triggering to those sensitive to positivity. Read at hour own risk.
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
― Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan
To be honest, I can’t say I’ve greeted each day with optimism of late. In fact, there have been a number of times when I awoke filled with a slight sense of dread. This morning felt different, like a bit of hope had been sprinkled on the world at dusk to be discovered when I ventured out to walk the dog.
It was that magic hour when the night slowly trades places with the day. Pearl, my 16 year old beagle, always stops on the porch steps to sniff the air thoroughly, so she knows what she’s getting into. I paused to take a deep breath too. The air smelled green and wet with the raindrops from an overnight shower still dripping slowly from the trees. Shadows of the night clung to the corners, curbs, and crannies of my world as as the palest of pinks painted the eastern sky beneath the stubborn glow of a planet too bright to disappear in the rising daylight. A pair of bats winged to and fro in a wandering waltz accompanied by a steady chorus of crickets.
As Pearl and I made our way down the quiet streets, past dark houses sheltering sleeping neighbors, pink turned to gold in the sky and the cricket choir quieted and retired to the shelter of the woods to be replaced by birds greeting the day with cheerful chirps and by the low hum of traffic building on the interstate as the world got about it’s business. Before long, walkers and runners joined the morning, moving with purposeful energy.
There is no stopping all of this. The sun keeps rising, and birds keep singing. I can’t help but feel how beautiful it all is. We’re all in this together. Momentarily, I’m filled with the hope and promise of a new day - another chance to discover the art which fills my heart and try to create something beautiful to share with the world.
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