An Ordinary Day

The morning is strangely quiet.  It's 5 a.m. and the sun has not yet introduced the day, reminding me summer is leaving soon and fall is close by.  I'm not ready to say goodbye to summer.

My feet fall quickly on the streets bringing a break into the silence.    The clouds hold no rain, for which I am very grateful.  The quietness of dawn gives me a blank canvas in which to paint my conversation with God onto.  He listens, I talk; peace and comfort abound.

The farmer has a new herd of calves in the grassy field close to the barn.  A few of them bellow to the others as to warn them the strange lady running on the road is dangerous.  I smile as it is always the same.  Just as it is with each new calf herd the farmer receives, one calf gets brave and runs toward me, whether to chase me or to see if I bring food I'm never sure.  Curiosity always grabs hold and soon most are running the fence line behind me.  I laugh as to the passerby I must look like a cow's Pied Piper.  Reaching the edge of the fence line, they stop and allow me to go on alone.

Mount Baker stands grand on the horizon, its foothills lush and green before her.   The sun is peaking above the hills bringing its light to the day.  I hear what sounds like softly falling rain, but feel nothing.  I look around me.  Above me the wings of several dozen sparrows flutter; the source of the noise.  The noise grows louder and I met by hundreds, if not thousands, of sparrows.  Flying in large groups and in percise unison toward a large, old oak tree standing solitary in a field. Upon landing in the tree, they all begin to talk to each other, and loudly; sounding like a room full of old Italian women talking with their hands.  This makes me laugh.

I turn towards home, my 6 miles complete.  I tiptoe into the house which holds sleeping boys.  The coffee is on and its smell fills the room.  The day has started just like so many before it, with an early morning run surrounded by nautre.  It's just an ordinary day.