There’s a clarity that comes with the morning, no matter how foggy my mind. The film of sleep over my eyes allows me to see. It shields me from a level of reality which I’m more than happy to be without.
The trees move effortlessly in my peripherals and dance playfully with the sound of the breeze. They partner together without question to perform a waltz like I’ve never seen.
Now and then, they come to a standstill, allowing the birds their time to shine.
Suddenly, the air is filled with a chaotic cacophony of calls. They work on pulling their sound together, but they only have so much time before the waltzing trees move swiftly by.
I guess, just like anything else, the forest needs time to get its bearings in the morning. It can’t always be easy to establish a perfect balance of birth, life, and death.
We breathe, eat, drink, and sleep.
Sometimes – hopefully most of the time – we find happiness.
And one day, we die.
But if in each moment and on each morning, we pay attention, we might at least realize we are all right, no matter the circumstances.
I am waiting for the film to lift, but maybe, just maybe, it will stick with me today. Maybe it will be my shield.