A Morning to be Alive

It’s still dark outside and my alarm hasn’t gone off. I’m on-call to recover a surgery this morning and a sense of relief washes over me knowing I didn’t sleep through my alarm or any phone calls. My relief quickly morphs back into worry when I remember five chickens refused to go to the coop at bedtime last night and are still sleeping in a tree (hopefully).

As I make my way outside to check on them, I'm engulfed by the expansive darkness and quietness, which stirs a sense of fear and uncertainty inside me. I’m still not use to it being this black, this still, this wild. Fireflies glitter in the grass like sparse pieces of shiny confetti stuck in the carpet after a party, despite your best efforts to cleanup. I click my flashlight on as I approach the tree where the chickens are slumbering. Seeing the bright, white-blue light fills me with a small and transient fury, as I'm reminded of the atrocious LED headlights found on cars nowadays. I shine the light high into the tree and feel grateful to find five chickens sleeping soundly. Something plops in the grass nearby and I silently thank my past self from a few minutes ago for not standing directly under the chickens.

I click my flashlight off and surrender myself back into the darkness. Just before I turn to make my way back to the house my attention is drawn even further upward, toward an orange gleaming in the sky; Venus. And she's surrounded by a complimentary canopy of infinite stars. Overcome by the wonder and beauty above me I watch in awe as twinkling stars silently fall and disappear into the dark morning sky. My discontent about waking up early and going to work on my day off dissipates into a radiating gratitude. Had my anxiety around work not awakened me so early, I would not have had the opportunity to witness the hushed magic playing out in the sky far above me; to revere the nature that constantly surrounds us but is often overlooked.

As I clomp through the darkness toward the house in my muck boots, I'm comforted by the low, soft hooting of an owl hiding in the trees across the dirt road. Back inside, and slightly chilled from the cool morning air, I wrap myself in a velvety blanket. While sipping hot coffee my husband has just made, I think to myself "What a morning to be alive."