The sky is the color of fresh-cut grapefruit and just-poured orange juice for only a few moments in the morning before it fades to pastels and then blue; fleeting seconds most people spend in bed, the shower, emailing or making breakfast, washing dishes or watching TV, totally oblivious to the passing beauty and wonder outside, totally consumed by their lives, responsibilities and rush to get to the next thing, do the next thing, be the next thing.
But not me.
I get to see the sun rise over the pasture, behind the trees and creek, every morning after putting Logan on the school bus and letting the chickens out of the barn. I get to listen to the birds sing their morning songs, the neighbor’s roosters crow “hello” to the day. And every day it takes my breath away, distracts me from the rest of the stress in my life, and forces me to be present and thankful for another day.
I am lucky.