Early Walks…

Early in the morning is the only time to walk during the summer here in our little town of Weston, North of Dallas, Texas.

Yes, the word Texas conjures up oil fields, vast lands stretching to the horizon, cattle, horses and rodeos, cowboys, dust and, at this time of year,

shimmering roads and interminable heat without rain for days often weeks, on end;

Before sunrise, while it’s still dark, is the coolest time of the day…sometimes in the high 60’s, more often in the mid 70’s. The sun hasn’t risen yet but the sky is blushing all over.

“It’s still dark outside…” Hubs complains from the bed. He’s right.

“It’s going to get lighter,” I say as I step outside and hurry off down my drive picking up the next door dog along the way.

As summer deepens the sun rises later and some mornings I’ll happen upon it as I turn the corner on the final stretch of my outward journey.

It’ll be hovering just above the horizon like a blood orange,


My phone really doesn’t do justice to the beauty so sometimes I’ll just watch it pop up and soar above the open fields beautiful in its raw energy.

Once up and shining it’s impossible to capture digitally so I wait for a natural filter;

this morning I find it again, peeking out from behind the Pecan tree.


For about a week I can turn the corner and surprise,

there it is roughly where I’d left it the morning before,


glorious and ready for a new sultry day.

Too soon its rising comes later and I catch it as the end of my walk draws to a close,

rising above the stables where I work,


The earth’s changing tilt playing with the sun.

God’s glory never ceasing to amaze me.

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