Mornings

It feels so good to get up before dark. Running around the land in utter silence, turning on water, patching holes in irrigation which has sat untapped for many months.  The first creatures to awaken and the lightening horizon my only companions.  The water squealing through little tubes, the bleary eyed plants whispering a silent thank you for an in breathe of some moisture before their great initiation of new life.  My time, my only time alone and in silence, its beautiful and even 10 minutes can feed me for an entire day.

I have always been a morning person, up with the sun mostly, even when I have laid down just a few hours before its rise.  I can't really remember what mornings used to be like, but now they mean sometimes grumpy little girls to whom I am a concierge of the morning process.  The nagging can begin so early around here, its a hard way to start the day and a true test of my emotional stability.  My Wren Wren can choose to be such an amazing sweet joy in the morning or a button pusher, boundary explorer.  She is an amazing reflection for me.  A mirror of where my emotional state lies.   Can I maintain patience , in touch with all those ways of communicating which often come naturally and sometimes must be recalled from the many parenting books I have run to at times of desperation.  It feels like she has been programmed to make me a better person and yet at times I am at my worst with her.  I love her so deeply and so deeply does she play my soul.

So, these mornings that start so far before the rest of my life are such amazing treasures.  Especially when farm season has begun,  they help me remember who I am.  My adventurous, feral self that used to play and explore life with such abandon.  I reminisce the feelings of childhood again, in and out of the woods and streams, appreciating all the stillness and silence, natures songs and ease of movement, the unleashed life.