The Amazing Show Begins
I’VE LOVED THE DAWN FOR YEARS because I like being alone with the planet when the sun rises. I like beginning before the street does, before the noise does, before the thoughts in my mind cramp and clutter in clusters and shooting diagonals and bubbling up antagonals, before the exhaust fills the air and my lungs and dulls the day into evening.
I’VE LOVED THE DAWN FOR YEARS because I like being alone with the planet when the sun rises. I like beginning before the street does, before the noise does, before the thoughts in my mind cramp and clutter in clusters and shooting diagonals and bubbling up antagonals, before the exhaust fills the air and my lungs and dulls the day down into evening. In the early morning, I hold my tall, tomato-red coffee cup (with the yellow inside) and I inhale five times, long and slow and deep.
ah…there’s the dew in the grass
…and there is the sky
…the sweet mossy scent of the soil
…and there is the bakery…buns, dough, butter
…the cool concrete has its own smell, too
and i could go on and on and on, drawing this freshly rested world into my lungs. i only stop because i worry about sounding strange to a neighbor. it’s a worry that enters my mind like a dawdling hatchback climbs onto the highway ramp. a little buzz alone and slightly awkward in all the tranquility.
i watch it move into the distance.
the sun slowly lifts up and everything begins turning coral, peach, pinkish gold. salmon, grapefruit, day-colored.
i am here alone for now. i didn’t even bring my camera, or any of my cameras, videocameras, sound recorders, or iPhone. i am only here with my coffeecup, warm against my palm. watching shadows silently shift on the brickface of my apartment. they are leaf shadows, and behind them is the sun.
another thought blinks right and zooms forward you should get your camera that light is amazing
i move my eyes over to the bushes that crowd the sidewalk. i don’t want to fiddle with buttons and settings right now. i don’t want to bring a robot into this moment with me. they have me most of the day.
the sun should be screaming. the mountain-sized beam of light is white hot. there is a huge and powerful silence in the air. the sunbeam washes without pause over the tallest tips of the bush. an untrimmed hedge, and random shoots have risen above the rest.
a moment ago there was a bicyclist who leaned on their brakes and turned into the alley behind me. now, there is no movement on the street. it is only i and the sun and three branches from a bush.
i watch them. they only stand in that light, reaching, reaching, glowing.
the sun watches all of us.
It’s Monday evening in California, and your coffee’s aroma is just reaching here. That was very relaxing to read…hence, I think I might brew some java now, so I don’t fall asleep. Nezua, change can be hard, but I am getting adjusted to your new look, here at UMX. Thank You for your hard work. Both el grito and el machete have their own personalities and they are welcome. Take care of your red and yellow cup; we all need warmth in our lives; that of the sun and also, the feel of a warm cup of coffee in our palms. Take care, Nora
gracias, nora. i appreciate all you’ve said here. and you are so right about the elemental, simple, important joys and comforts that are so important to savor. peace, nezua.