Soft-Side of Morning

When the morning alarm sounded at 5:58, I knew better than to linger another moment. I had only been in bed for four hours. A few more minutes with my pillow would be a luxury I could not afford.

My most productive hours are at night, so I don't surrender easily to sleep. Last night my engine revved for hours while Mr. Fun snoozed on the sofa. When I realized it was 2:00 a.m., I waved the white flag, coaxed Mr. Fun to come upstairs to a real bed, and we went to slumberland without a struggle.

At 7:00 a.m. I was almost ready to leave for the campus when I noticed the view out back. The trace of pink just above the foothills south of us is always a reason to pause and just breathe in the day. The spectacular autumn weather the past couple days brought dry warm temperatures and a high wind that gave us a "forever" view.

So I was in my car and gone before Mr. Fun, but he stood on the front sidewalk watching me go. A kiss, a wave, a horn honk, a flash of each turn-signal until I could no longer see him in the rear view mirror. Then the soft side of our morning was gone.

I rounded the corner to see the northern view, Mt. Baldy, big, rugged, stark, impossible to ignore. Within moments the campus was in sight and I was face-to-face with the day's responsibilities.

The morning's beauty is wonderous and today I had a front row seat.


Now this Thursday is just about over. Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

P.S. Thank you everyone for the meaningful comments on yesterday's page honoring my dad's birthday. I've been so busy this week that today I didn't get to peek at Blip all day, so when I arrived home this evening, I read your messages while wiping away tears. Autumn always seems to come robed in nostalgia.