Morning has broken…

…like the first morning, although, it’s still dark outside as I write this… and totally quiet, except for the hum of my ageing computer. No blackbirds. It’s nearly six o’clock in the morning, and only a few weeks ago, it would have been light outside by now – that soft morning light that touches everything with a silvery glow. I find myself listening for the kookaburras who always herald the start of a new day with a chorus of laughter that echoes from one tribe to the next.

 

...the view from my writing room window

…the view from my writing room window

I love morning and I love watching the dawn creep across the hills. This is not a new thing, I’ve always been a morning person, but since we have been at Seventy Seven Acres it has almost become a ritual.

This is my time of day, and I treasure it.

It is so peaceful to have the house to myself for a few moments, while Matt and Will (both night owls by nature) sleep on. It’s a time when I sit and write for a while, maybe meditate, and add in a bit of gentle exercise before I start getting school lunches ready and making the morning cuppas to ease the Boys into the day.

I’m really enjoying this morning, and, as I look out the window now, I can see the trees as dark silhouettes against a richly blue background. Even as I write, the light gets stronger. Now I can see that the sky is cloudy. The Hill across the Valley is hidden behind a blanket of mist. Slowly, I watch the grass beyond the veranda become green.

Everything is so still. There is not even a breath of wind.

It’s cool this morning, too – a hint, perhaps, of the approaching autumn?

This is the first time in the last couple of weeks that I’ve had time to appreciate the beauty and calm of the pre-dawn stillness. School is in session again, with all the frenetic activity that surrounds the beginning of a school year. At my school, too, there have been some changes to the way we are delivering our program, and new teams learning to work together. There is so much to prepare… so much to get done before the day starts. My precious morning time has been stolen. As well as my evenings.

Then, yesterday, I left my USB at school, and didn’t realise until I was home.

I did what I could last night, but this morning has been all mine.

The way it should be.

Outside my window, Beatrice and Eugenie have arrived and are quietly grazing their way across the back garden. I can see the colours of the tree trunks, and the different greens of their canopies – a pale green for the brittle gums with their grey-white trunks, darker for the iron barks, and darker still for the black wattles. A pair of young hares have just arrived and are gadding about the garden. Bea pauses in her eating to watch them, and check on Eugenie, who is joining in.

Still no kookaburras.

I told myself that the morning was mine until they called, but the clock is saying otherwise.

If I don’t start to get Will up soon, we’ll be late for school.

Ah, there they are, the first distant chattering across the hillside… if I’m quick, I might get a morning walk in.

... heading out for a morning walk, the gate open to a whole new day of possibilities

… heading out for a morning walk, the gate open to a whole new day of possibilities