Good morning, merry sunshine,
How did you wake so soon?
You've scared the little stars away,
And shined away the moon.
I saw you go to sleep last night,
Before I ceased my playing,
How did you get way over there,
And where have you been staying?
"I never go to sleep, dear child,
I just go round to see
My little children of the East,
Who rise and watch for me.
I waken all the birds and bees,
And flowers on my way,
And now come back to see the child
Who stayed out late to play."
-From "Eloise Wilkin's Poems to Read to the Very Young"
I feel a bit odd posting these pictures when temps around here have been in the 70's, but indulge me, if you will, in a few last photos from our recent snowstorm.
It was early one morning, last week, when I was changing Rascal's diaper on the changing table upstairs in our bedroom. He was chuckling to himself and saying, "Hi. Hi. Hi." Smiling, I glanced down at him and noticed his cherubic little face bathed in a rosy glow. He was focusing intently on the light filtering through the crack between the curtain and window shade and the window itself. His hand was outstretched as he was trying to "catch" the beam of light. I realized he wasn't saying "Hi" to me, but to the light streaming in.
The window in the bedroom nearly runs from floor to ceiling, so it wasn't long before the entire bedroom was filled with golden hues. I rolled up the shade and pulled back the curtain, and then I beheld one of the most peaceful and serene sights: a peaches-and-cream sunrise over a magical blanket of white.
The children and I just sat in the window and marveled at all the little tiny ice crystals hanging from the branches. We etched designs in the frost on the windowpane. Mere minutes later, the pinks and purples faded into bright blue sky. That little window of sunrise is so small, that to catch it before it fades to day is such a treat!
After we headed downstairs, I caught another glimpse out our patio door and couldn't believe how the sun was making such quick work of melting the snow off these tender tree top branches.
I just love the quiet that fills the air the morning after a big snow. That sort of quiet that is almost deafening, if you know what I mean. The kind that nudges the negative thoughts and weighted-down feelings out of the way and, instead, fills your head and your senses with crisp 'n' clean freshness! Other than sleeping in, starting my morning out with the rise of the sun is my favorite way to start the day.