I wrote this in 2003 after yet another morning on the way to school. I drove an hour each way, five days a week in all types of weather. During the winter, the roads could be beyond hazardous, especially with ice storms. I lived in Topeka, KS at the time and was going to school in Emporia, KS.


My Day

The morning air stung bitterly cold, searing exposed flesh and shaking the spirit. The snow wet, the sky dim and dreary. A rare gift was being presented, to experience the morning's awakening and in turn, experience the environment in all its simplistic glory.

With a tiny hint of the sunrise, a diminutive cluster of forlorn snowflakes fluttered down as this lonely traveler went her way.

The trees stood against the prairie wind rigid against the assault of winter. They seem to shiver though, with life not visibly seen. The muted light of the sun, hidden behind the snow clouds, fell upon the barren limbs of the trees, gratefully embracing light of the Creator.

Through the night, the snow had settled on each branch of each tree, separating the dark of the sleeping bark from the white of the snow, highlighted against the gray morning backdrop. Each tiny limb, blushed with just enough radiance to make it appear swathed in glittering silk. Below their reach, wisps of white on each fence wire and upon each fence post, a pure white cap. Blades of prairie grass gingerly lean, peeking their heads from the snow... just to welcome the new day.

Like an apparition from beyond, a swirling cloud descended from a tree, revealing two quivering hawks, leaning together in warmth and protection.

The mysterious beauty of the open prairie blanketed in virgin snow pure and white, unmolested by the wind or hunting paws... just a blanket of beauty. Here and there, evergreen bushes were scattered about, bejeweled with snowcaps on the tips of their branches. But the prairie; it shimmered and glistened, like an ocean of diamonds. Just enough sunlight had escaped the clouds to bathe the horizon in a shower of absolute perfection. Tiny sparkles seemed to leap from the ground, to kiss the last star goodnight.

And there they were. Like a childhood fairy tale, a family of deer was running across the meadow. Almost a dream, it seemed their feet never touched the ground. Gracious and delicate, they appeared to glide over the snow, causing it to burst into the air behind them. As the snow rose, it caught the sunlight in the prisms of it's points and all the colors of Creation, danced in the air, then slowly... as if breathed by the very mouth of the Creator, they gently settled back to the prairie, awaiting another adventure.

Streaks of blue and gray in the sky, some not quite awake, not yet touched by the breath of ecstasy, but rather waiting... tired, weak, and weary.

Some clouds were beginning to turn white, absorbing the sun's breaking rays... warming, growing... but still, waiting.

But those few in the eastern sky... amidst the gray, the gloom, and the dim... didn't bother to wait. Rushing forth, diving into the explosion of the morning's birth, drinking in every imaginable color and hue, radiating the glory of the new day.

Gifts so generously accessible, if the heart is enlightened enough to entertain the infinite.

Copyright 2003-2008 CZF

talented writer

very good.you are a master of what you do when you write.dont stop.i could only wish that i could do what you do.

Your able to paint the pages of my imagination with the creativity of your writing.