I sit here in the cool predawn air sipping coffee and feeling right with the world. It’s barely six o’clock but there’s life all around me in the pink mist of the morning. Birds are singing praises to the Almighty, but I think the prize is more secular. There’s a turkey gobbling down the hill. Those boys never seem to stop.
A jet plane leaving Springfield and crossing my space interrupts my meditation. I’m resentful that a plane full of commuters going to Chicago or Saint Louis or wherever it is they’re heading violates my peace and quiet. None of those destinations are worth compromising my short time, my experience here in the hour of dawn. This brief moment of time is not to be shared with strangers. I don’t mind when a fretful calf calls for his mother, that’s part of the joy of the morning, a neighbor just checking to see where his mother is in the fog.
My few moments in the morning are gone all too soon. Trucks on the highway over the hill are downshifting gears to conquer the summit. Life as we know it is in full swing now. The trucks awakened the watchdogs so they feel compelled to bark at the foggy mist and chase away any stray coyotes roaming over the hillside in search of a rabbit for breakfast. The barking has alerted the rabbits to the presence of danger and they peer silently into the wet dawn trying to see the coyotes before the coyotes see them.
It’s another day for me to ponder how tough my life is. No coyote’s going to catch and rip me apart; no terrorist will take a shot at me and I don’t have to go to Chicago or Saint Louis. Life is good!
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