An Almost Typical Morning

Until something weird happened…

A sliver of pink framed the eastern horizon. George Harrison began singing, Here Comes the Sun, from somewhere in the depths of Luke’s noggin. He had already been awake for almost two hours. After shaving and showering and eating breakfast he went out to the edge of the property where he had the best view of the sunrise.

Needless to say, Luke was a morning person. He was born early in the morning and that is when he had always had the most energy. The rest of the day went downhill from there. Never in his life had he overslept in the morning. The snooze button on his alarm clock went unused.

The notion of waking up in the morning AFTER the sun was already up was horrific and unthinkable to Luke. It only happened a handful of times in his forty-three years and those were times when he was sick. To Luke, sunrise was the most magical and powerful moment of the day.

Luke sometimes pondered the similarities between the sun and an egg yolk. They were two of his favorite things. Both of them provided essential nutrition and both of them were close to the same color. Egg yolks were his very favorite food (just the yolks, not the rest of the egg) and that was the first thing he ate in the morning. His spiritual sunrise practice was his first meditation of the day.

Luke’s ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was a night person. She liked to stay up until one or two or three in the morning then sleep in until almost noon — and then she was very grumpy the first hour after arising. That was perfect for Luke because he could spend the mornings alone working on his art, which for him was a very solitary thing. But in the evenings when she came alive he was depleted and ready for bed no later than ten o’clock. He often wondered what part this energy dichotomy played in their breakup.

After finishing his sunrise ceremony Luke left the property and walked down to the creek to listen to the birds and the babbling water and smell the wild spearmint growing alongside the creek. The morning offered something for all his senses.

He sat on his favorite rock alongside the creek and proceeded to commune with nature but after only a few moments he was interrupted by the sound of a horse’s hooves. He turned to look upstream and saw a horse and rider trotting right down the middle of the creek towards him. He stood.

The rider was a woman wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Her long chestnut colored hair was the same color as the horse. It flowed in the air behind her. As she approached she smiled at him and waved. Luke could barely wave back before she was past him heading downstream. He followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight then he sat back down on the rock.

That was weird, he thought to himself.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.

Speaking of the sun…