Most days I wake up early. We sleep in a small building that used to be my art studio, so it’s separate from the main cabin, up in the trees, a private sanctuary. Every morning I have to make the short trek down the path to get the coffee going and start the daily ritual called getting ready. Some days, like today, it’s the most lovely way to begin.

The birdsong sounding so sweet to my ears this morning as I step out into the pale light. The birds are already so busy, and I take in this happy gift of their chirps and whistles.

The day is getting ready too, gathering itself. There’s a feeling of softness in the morning air, and for a few moments, while the night slips away, the light is dreamy. The sun will break over the rise soon, its rays filling the space between the trees. No words have been spoken yet, my thoughts are still sleepy. In this half light, this hushed time, I can feel the grace of this day.