I just finished a lovely book, The Oak Papers by James Canton. I am fortunate to have seven oak trees on my property, all more than 100 years old. One is right outside my front door. As I look east, I can see the morning rays of the sun tickling the backs of the distant mountains, and then, on cue, the sunrise shimmers through the branches, illuminating the rough hewn bark, reflecting off one prickly green leaf to another.
Many mornings I will stand beneath it, welcoming the day with a sun salutation (really the only yoga pose I do well). The peaceful silence is so intoxicating I’m often hesitant to go back inside my house and actually start my day. My greeting of the day fills me with gratitude as I share my morning practice with the beauty of the Earth’s morning ceremony.
All around me the day is awakening. I live in a rural part of California’s Central Coast, surrounded by the sounds of horses, cows, goats, chickens, roosters, ducks all announcing their start to the day. I can’t help smiling. Quick note: roosters crow all day, not just at sunrise; a noisy prompt — stay awake!
All of this is part of the rhythm of my life, a perpetual cadence that renews my spirit every day that fills me with joy.
