There is nothing like a crisp fall morning in the Pacific Northwest… the temperature is low but not overwhelming. It’s 38 degrees and the sky is blue. The bay is a dark morning blue with hints of gray and green. The distant forest on the far shore is a blur of color that is slowly awakening, becoming more distinct. Wisps of dark gray clouds draw shapes that could have been a dragon, but now look more like an athletic dog, jogging along the edge of the water and the forest, and then just merge into the distance and disappear. More light pores from the east, and blurred lines become sharp, colors dilineate, and shadows retreat. The windshield on my vehicle has a slight glare that almost looks like a bit of freeze. Random multicolored leaves stick to its surface, but the slight rise in temperature as time passes causes them to detach from the surface and drift slowly and mindlessly away. There’s a light breeze causing the red leaves to rustle out my window and some drop off the Japanese Maple to drift lazily by on their descent to the ground, painting the pathway a kaleidoscope of reds with a hint of orange, now showing off in the gathering glow, and in the distance the Olympic Mountains are covered in white snow, with the rising sun reflecting brightly off the slopes. That brightness seems overwhelming in the low light surrounding my home. It draws your vision out and you can lose track of what is ten yards away trying to focus on that distant radiance. The air is so clear and fresh that I feel I can reach out and grab onto the mountains, and the trees would just brush against my arm. I feel at peace and the rising sun feeds my peace as I watch the shadows retreat and the line dilineating the light and dark retreat towards me from the distance. My meditation is interrupted by movement below. There’s a squirrel rummaging in the flower bed in full view, and I don’t think he has any idea that he’s being watched. He is so busy, working away and oblivious to anything but those seeds right in front of him. His movements are smooth and sudden at the same time, musical and erratic. Something startles him and he dissappears beneath the brush. His movement has awakened my senses, and I see more and more. A flock of small unnamed birds flies by at top speed and snaps me to the present and to the change that marks a moment of decision. I take a big cleansing breath and let it out slow. This is good. Time to start my day. Here we go…

Take a moment with me to practice the discipline of starting the day with a moment to center yourself, being mindful of the present, and aware of potential. Nature beckons you forward.

The view I describe above…