My porch faces south. When I wake up early, I hear the horses talking and it encourages me to wrap myself in a light blanket and slip quietly outside to sip hot Earl Grey tea. That is a tradition started by my grandmother when I was little. She got up while it was still dark to make coffee for herself and Papa. I would hear her in the kitchen and stumble in. Pulling on coats if it was cool, we sat on the patio to watch the sun color the tops of the trees. I still do this. I get to hear the birds begin their day, some of them are already going to the feeder.
When the sun’s glow begins to warm the horizon, yesterday is gone and the new day is right there, ready to be loosely planned.
This is also the time I pray. When the sun pushes above the horizon, it feels like the most powerful time of the day. The Beginning.
For me, praying is a guarantee, like a spiritual vitamin, that I am doing something really good for myself and others. I ask for guidance at this time
before the unexpected happens, before someone says something mean, before I get frustrated by things not going my way.
As I walk to the barn, moments later, it’s with a lighter heart that I put a halter on the first horse’s head.