As Summer fades and the days grow shorter I am rising in ever-increasing darkness these mornings. It is a beautiful time of the year, the wheat and barley have been harvested, most of the lambs have long been sold and as the dry takes a firm grip the colour of the land becomes like golden straw. The days can be hot and dusty leaving one parched and crusty by evening, but each morning there is a cool freshness that rejuvenates hope and energy for the new day.
I often pause just outside my door and marvel at the drama of dawn. The exuberant flourish in the eastern sky before the first pink light touches the hills across the river. Each day is new and each new day ushers a new season closer. Nothing is the same as yesterday for night has placed a barrier between what was and what is.
It is always my favourite time of any day, those moments filled with promise and bird song. Moments of stillness before the wind and work of the day begin.
Sometimes I am beset by melancholy echoes of yesterdays long gone and it is a good reminder that each day is new, each start a fresh one. We are never bound by what has been for only what we cling to can pass through the night with us. So as I untie the dogs and let the dew wet my boots I draw deep breaths of newness and welcome the light of a world awaiting my participation in its joy.