I rose when the sun did.
Cycled through farmland softened by early morning mist,
listening to bird song and silence.
Past fields where workers hoed weeds and planted seed potatoes...
knowing I would have the breath knocked out of me by color.
What amazing living rainbows spread out before us every spring in this little valley.
We witness this annual miracle and still can't believe the beauty spread like a magic carpet.
When it's this early I can cycle down the middle of the road, all alone with the birds and the flowers and the occasional cluster of friendly farm workers, their laughter echoing across the fields.
As far as the eye can see, ribbons of color are flung across the earth.
I turn for home, past barns and fields and wide swaths of grass around the farmhouses.
Pardon me for gushing again.
But what else can you do when it seems that God has taken out His brightest box of crayons again and colored all over the world with great glee?
