I wrote this a while back (September 16th to be exact) at North Lakes Park in Denton when I was on my early morning, sunrise-watching kick, and God’s been bringing it to mind quite a bit lately, so I thought I’d share:
I love the calm of the morning… feeling like the rest of the world hasn’t started yet. And I love sitting in the stillness, listening to the world slowly come to life. First, darkness and silence become interrupted by dusk and crickets and birds. Then, the dusk turns into tints and shades of pink, purple, yellow, and orange. More and more birds begin to awaken. Insects are buzzing about. Then, the sun begins to peek over the horizon; the shadows of the hills are hanging on for dear life but, despite their efforts, filling up with rays of light. The birds become louder; the sounds of cars on the street join in. Cars mean people, busy people, rushing to work or where ever their jammed-pack schedules have them first. Despite the bad connotation, it adds to the music of the morning, comforting me that I’m not alone and reminding me of the world that I’ll soon have to get back to. The colors of the sunrise slowly begin to fade away as the sun grows higher and higher and golden rays of sun bursts through the clouds, blinding me. I can barely see, but it’s so beautiful. Suddenly, all the land is covered in glorious light. Hello, world. Hello, life.
The McAdams 