Early morning

I really am enjoying these cooler days. Although I have to start every morning at 6am with a trip out into the garden with my little blind doggie, Susie, who has lost confidence in going down the stairs on her own, those early morning trips have revealed a new part of the day. Sunrise is still an hour away, but the trees are filled with chirruping birds, most notably the robin, as they prepare to catch the worm. Somehow the air is not at all chilly and is in fact mild to the extent that there is no sense of temperature, either warm nor cold, and the scent of the damp earth tells of life-giving rain having been showered liberally over the plants to enable them to flourish without the hand of man.

There is a stillness in the air. The heavy seas of last week have morphed into white-capped wavelets dotting the ocean, with no thunderous shore breaks. As I write, I see a small wave curling over and shattering into a gazillion droplets of pink-tinged foam, as the first rays of dawn light catches it through a gap in the mountains. What a beautiful sight - can't be captured by a camera. It is the only patch of sun in the area and seems almost as if that wave was sought out by a laser beam.

In the near distance, a fishing boat chugs by, it too reflecting the dawn off its windows, winking at me as it pitches and rolls on its was to the fishing grounds. Let's hope the sun shines on it today and it returns with a full hold of the gifts of the sea.