The Glory of Mornings and Man Wonder


Yesterday early, early morning I was writing but as dawn pushed up the night sky I had to stop and watch. It has snowed for two days straight but sometime during the night the clouds finally emptied and as the sun rose the departing cloud bottoms lit up in shades of pink, gold and silver. 008

Roof tops and tree branches, thick under snow, sparkled like fairy dust. Man, it was one of those mornings so delicious it puffed up the heart like an oversized blowfish. One can’t help but thank the creation-of-all for such a sight.


To me, there is something about the dawns. They fill the soul, melting away any stink from the day before and leave you with the feeling—yeah, this could be a miraculous day.

Now, I believe in miracles—impossible not to after watching a sunrise, and every day is full of miracles. Every size. Every kind. Even those days filled with crap. Don’t they make you feel like it’s a miracle you survived? And besides—those crap days are just a sure sign of a miracle about to pop. The crap is just there to highlight its brilliance.

That’s not to say all miracles are sudden and bold. Some are quiet little happenings that sneak in and warm the soul like a thick pair of wool socks.

Like a couple of mornings ago. I woke a few hours before dawn (you see a habit here?) and as I watched the snow falling against a street light I knew I had to get out there; to walk a bit through that quiet, fresh world. Maybe head down the road to the local all-night coffee shop. Now, I’m not a fan of being alone in the dark but the world of white dialed that fear back enough for me to want to be out in it.

So there I am, quiet as can be, dressing in the closet by flashlight when Man-Wonder rolls over and wants to know what the heck I’m doing. I tell him and the next thing I know he’s reaching past me to get his clothes out.

“Why are you getting dressed?”

Of course, as is his annoying habit, he doesn’t answer right away. It’s when he handing me my toque and gloves that he finally answers.

“Because I know you’re afraid to walk alone in the dark.”

Yeah, those sweet joyful, quiet moments can sometimes be the best miracles of all and they’re waiting right there. All we have to do is keep our eyes and hearts open.

Psssst . .. and he held my hand all the way to the coffee shop 🙂

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