It's a very mundane task that sends me outside before the sun comes up, but the cats must be cleaned up after. I am facing south as I come off the porch. To my left, I can see the barest hint of dawn. Above me and to my right, the black of night remains, as do the stars.
To my left, just past the two fences that mark the end of my yard, there is an interstate highway. To my right, as well as in front of me and behind, are the homes and yards of my neighbors, and the street I live on. Above me, Orion the Hunter, Betelgeuse and Rigel on opposite corners.
To my left, the noise of man and his machines. To my right, the calls of birds and the hums and clicks of insects. Above me, silence, at least until the next plane takes off from the airport 10 miles away.
The early morning air has both the nip of colder air and softness of sun-warmed afternoon. It's a feeling that says Autumn.This moment has more to say. Summer has been here, winter is coming, but now we are poised...
And isn't that much of life, poised? For a choice, for an action? Transcendence, perhaps? It's a rather beautiful thought.
In the meantime, I have cat waste to dispose of, and cat food to give them that will be turned to waste in its turn. I have coffee to make, a wife to wake, a job to go to, and a memory of a poised moment to treasure.