I wake with a start long before sunrise. The dog bolted out of the house and barked at something presumably nefarious. False alarm.
I should roll over and try for more sleep.
But the mind scrolls through unmet deadlines and endless unfinished business.
I should get up and work on the list.
But instead I reach for Annie Dillard and read her writing life .
As she describes ace pilot Dave Rahm carving the sky in volumes with a biplane, she conjures art out of his prowess. And I see him playing games with gravity: arabesques in a blue sky, impossible slopes, loops, sputters, glides, silences and angles…
A Picasso sketched on my page.
But an insistent, happy lark barges into my picture, hops in and rips clear through my vision and her magnificent prose.
His sounds bounce in joyful ripples and crash into letters.
It messes with paragraphs, shreds her lines into disconnected pieces, overwrites her phrases tempo rubato… and her text, emptied of sense, scatters in full round notes.
How can I resist this call to sunrise? To life, clear as dew drops, not distilled, sublimated or reframed, even by a brilliant mind like Annie’s? I can’t.
I jump out of bed to join that winged singer, the unknown artist who gives his all in every song. We will catch the sun color the sky and hear a symphony.
Annie is right when she writes ‘that as you spend your days, of course, is how you live your life.’
unbuttoned or undone 
Dear Emmy,
Thank you for sharing your lovely morning. I could hear the lark. Sweet verses.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you Rochelle. Larks are a delight, But when they get into an argument the tones rise acutely 😉
Mornings are special. Rain or shine they are always gentle.
Hugs
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… and her text, emptied of sense, scatters in full round notes.
I read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek many years ago and I don’t remember the details, but I remember the sense that she would love what your lark did to her words.-) Thank you for the pictures.
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Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is a long time ago for me too!
You are very kind to suggest that A,D, would love what I did with her words. I’d be pleased if she didn’t mind!
The photo at the top is from my garden, facing east. I watch the sunrise through tree leaves. and make my predictions.;)
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The resolution is small. Is that irisation or just general pinkness?
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General pinkness and shades that my phone camera does not capture. There were golden pinks but no irisation.
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Just Eos, not Iris, then.-)
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I had to look that up. I knew Eos by another name but not Iris.
Thank you broadening and coloring my horizon 🙂
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Astounding.
You have a gift for saying almost nothing in such a way that it takes the breath away.
Super bien fait, Em, impec*******cable!
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I thought about Much Ado About Nothing, as a tittle, but it’s already taken..
Glad you enjoyed it. And your enthusiasm makes me smile.
Thank you
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Getting up each morning with roosters is great , but a lark would be really special . Hey Emm, nice one.
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Larks can be shrill but by an large they are sweet. They seem to like my neighbours’ trees and the neglect in my garden, so it’s all good for me!
Roosters always make me laugh. I don’t know why.
I’m glad to see you here Tony, Thank you.
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Love it. Your word choices are amazing. So easy to read and get totally immersed into the picture being illustrated. I forget where I am at and what I am doing and I tend to daydream there. That is great writing. Suz
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Thank you my dear friend. Glad to be a distraction, a good one.
Dream a little dream of me comes to mind 😉
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Hi Emm,
Sounds like a beautiful awakening. Now tell me that the sun was shining and it was 75 degrees and I’ll be jealous. My lark is a cat named Lily, and whether I like it or not, she wakes me promptly at 7:a.m. every morning – weekends included. Good to hear from you again. Hugs !
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Loveliness. ❤
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