Sunrise over Estación de Cartama, Spain
~ The following is resurrected from my journal musings of over four years ago. While I did not locate a specific date for the entry, in this case the time of origin has no real bearing on the content—which is as relevant to me now as it was then. ~
I reach through layers of slumber, past troubling dreams, and lie there, blinking slowly to let go of the remnants of sleep. The nightmare isn't true, I realize...and will my mind to stop churning.
It's early yet, and the birds have just begun to work their way through the Saturday morning repertoire. Some of the chirps sound quite close. Okay. I'm curious now. I work my way out of the bedclothes and get off the bed so I can look out the window. I smile, enjoying the sight. There are two of them, side by side, perched on the white rake of an antenna mounted on our roof. They have front row seats to the sunrise.
I love it when I'm close enough to watch their sharp, short beaks open and close as they keep the conversation going like good football [soccer] commentators. Regretfully, I leave the winged creatures to their melodies and retreat to the bathroom mirror to reflect on my thoughts.
What does it mean to have front row seats to a sunrise? - I wondered, drying my face on the short rose-colored towel.
It seemed utterly presumptuous now to assume that the pair of birds I had witnessed sitting above the roof would have a better view than those swooping gently in the fresh morning air.
And yet, did that mean all of them saw it equally well? Perhaps, though each of them has the unique opportunity to fully appreciate the joy of the morning right before their eyes—just perhaps, like us, there are only some who choose to watch the day's beauty unfold. Only some who acknowledge the singular creativity of this day's miracle. Who raise their eyes, their voices, their hearts, in humble thanksgiving and adoration of the One whose mercies are new every morning.
I am dressed now and sitting on the edge of my bed. I close my eyes, silently making my own choice: to play in tune with heaven's melody, to watch attentively for every movement of the orchestra Conductor's hand, and so live in harmony with the theme of eternity's love song.
May I remember this choice today, and always Today.