Early Morning’s Light

 After tumbling around in bed for an hour, flipping this way and that

(God forbid that I disturb my dog’s four legged extension (into my back)

or my granddoggie’s big curl)  I surrendered. 

6:30 a.m. is not my finest hour, but, knowing that I can catch some fantastic views on our farm with mist rising over the fields or witness muted daybreak sun and colors about to blossom, I threw my boots on under my nightshirt, grabbed my camera, and cursed the dogs–who acknowledged my suffering by rolling over to take full, victorious possession of the bed.

There have been early mornings in the past where I’ve stumbled out in dawn’s stupor to find some deer nibbling at our crab apple tree or noticed a big tom turkey strutting his expanded fan past the ladies.  These guys stick their rubbery, bloody sausage-necks out and gobble a ridiculous “love song”.  The sound makes me want to shoot one of them right between his ugly eyes  just because  it is early (and I don’t drink coffee) and me and the ladies are not in the mood for his shenanigans.

We used to have a group of three big Toms that shared a flock of about 20 hens.  I nicknamed them, “The Three Kings” and forbid  John from shooting them in turkey season.  Hello, these are my pets.  One day I hid in our barn and shot some pictures of them out a side window.

There are always rabbits on the run and all kinds of bird songs to remind me that dawn’s early light is special.   This morning the moon was still high in a night-blue-budding sky and the fog was almost to the top tip of the trees.  The grass was heavy with wet dew; good thing I had the boots.  I trudged out, pulling my nightie up to keep it dry, and took these pictures.  So worth it!