On the wings of the morning

Man was not meant to work seven days a week I've realized.

Ye shall keep a Sabbath.....

For me that's on a Sunday...there's nothing like a Sunday morning. I am filled with appreciation for this day...of course I have a greater appreciation for the morning and not so much for the night.

On that day I rise to the bellowing sound of a cock , and stretch from my limbs, consciousness, muscles and bones the complexity of the six days prior. I dress quickly and head for the great outdoors....under a tree is where you'll find me, fresh fruits in hand, a notebook and a cup of tea...at rest with myself as a part of nature.

Twas a lively day yesterday too, with the sun burning its shape into the sky, the hills reaching toward the clouds in resplendent green wonder while said clouds float by is focused disarray...ahhhhh......a beautiful day, filled with promises of nothing to do but go get a paper in an hour or maybe two.

The breeze rustling through the bows o the coconut tree, birds chirping on and on about something seemingly fun. Shadows an shapes intermingle in the morning glory and I am left...yet again...to be in awe of life and this wonderful island livity.