Sunrise

There wasn't much of a sunrise this morning, too many heavy clouds.  So the air just sort of lightened and grew bright enough to see.

Read this description of the morning - made me wish I had the aptitude with words that this writer does.

"One of the perks of getting out early every morning is that I get to see the sun come up.  A gob-smackingly glorious sunrise at the start of the day is practically a daily event around here, and every one of them is absolutely free of charge.  ...I always stop whatever I'm doing and take them in. I'd hate to think I'd gotten so jaded that I didn't recognize a gift from heaven when it was staring me right in the face....It was the kind of sunrise that practically begs you to pull out your cell phone and capture its magnificent beauty for the benefit of generations to come--but it didn't fool me.  I've learned the hard way that it's only when you take a picture and look at it later that you realize it's all an elaborate trick. The true glory of a sunrise is that it's fleeting.  Try to freeze it in time, and the very core of its beauty is lost."

I read that and felt like I'd met a kindred spirit - another soul that revels in the dawn of the day as much as I do.  Delightful!

And while I enjoy having company and not being out there alone in my feelings, I often think I'm all alone in the crowd.  I think differently than others, and am fully aware that I don't march with all the rest.  Understanding that we are all unique, I often feel out of place because I'm different.

Still, there can be value and beauty in standing (all by one's self) tall.  Take this pretty little flower amongst the weeds. I'm not sure if I'm the pretty little flower amongst the weeds, or if I'm the weed amongst the flowers. I'd like to say it doesn't matter, that there's room for all of us. That's at least the ideal anyway: a place (and room for) everyone.

I'm grateful that we aren't all the same.  It's sometimes difficult to be the "odd one out".  But I think life would be much less colorful and interesting if we all were the same.  (Part of this is offshoot thinking after having just finished reading The Giver by Lois Lowry in preparation for the movie that I now think I won't be seeing.) Sameness isn't enriching.

I spent some time today at the back door trying to spot the bird whose song I noticed.  It wasn't a song I recognized.  But it was lovely.  I never did manage to identify the bird, but am so grateful it left behind its music.