Another Sunrise on the Front Porch (Day 325)

There are so many things I love about this place.  But one of the things I love the most is the early morning fall sunrise from the front porch. 

Today there were some clouds providing a textured canvas of orange and yellow hues as the sun crept up from below the pine tree horizon. And then the bright glowing ball emerged above the treetops casting rays through the leafy oaken canopy.  I looked over to my right and notice two of the rays were focused directly on Koda and Cassie like lasers.  What are the chances that they would be sitting in the exact spots where those collimated beams of light would point during their transient existence?  A moment later, as the angle and conditions change, they were gone from view, but fortunately, captured in a photograph.

Once above the toothy pine tree curtain, the sun seemed to evaporate the clouds into a clear crisp blue sky on its journey upward.  From my perch here on the front porch facing due East, there is a short window of time of direct unfiltered exposure as the sun traverses the angular rise between the pine trees and the roof line of the porch.  Much of the year, it is almost too hot and bright to endure.  But now, in the Fall, it is pleasant.

This daily transition from night to day, darkness to light, is comforting and uplifting.  Perhaps it is just the seasonal time change, but it seems that I am up and watching the sunrise more frequently these days.  Could it be that I am emerging from the pervasive darkness of my season of grief?  Like the temporary sun beams, I am beginning to feel glimpses of a new sense of hope and, yes, even nervous excitement, about the future! 

And so, I welcome the light of this new day, and new season, with anticipation and hopefulness.