Got up at my usual time, dressed quickly and headed out the door with the dog. Totally typical.
Our house is at the top of a small hill, and, when it was originally built, back in the 1930's, it must have had a spectacular Mt. Hood view, which is now obscured by neighboring trees. You have to walk 50 yards to the street before you get a clear view to the east.
This morning, the cloud bank just to the right of the newly-white mountain had that luminous border that said the Sun's appearance was happening quite soon. While the dog sniffed around, I stood for several minutes, appreciating the scene: a few birds above, leaves drifting down, the steam from my breath, the increasing sense of the beginning of a new day.
The Sun appeared to rise above the cloud bank (a persuasive illusion indeed) and its light and promise of warmth filled the scene. A miraculous, everyday thing.
This morning I am attending the funeral of a wonderful person my own age, who died suddenly on Tuesday. The world goes on; glad I stopped for a moment. Next, coffee. Little pleasures.