My brother had an early flight out and on to his new duty station last Saturday, so I took him to the airport before the sun came up. As I drove the dark and empty roads home, I realized that I probably ought to stop for bread, being that we were out, but I was already past the edge of “town” and well on my way into our tiny village where the store doesn’t open until 7am.


So I raced the dawn over the hills and through the trees. I could see it growing in my rearview mirror, a pale background peeking through the dark stripes of clouds. And I won. I parked at our town beach before the light reached our valley, the lake still inky and steaming. I breathed in the damp chill of the morning and reveled in the silence (oh, the silence!), and then wandered down to the cafe. They have a great view from their backyard, and despite only having my iPhone, I caught the sunrise reflected in the water. Gorgeous and peaceful.


The women inside were just opening for breakfast, and we chatted about the beautiful pink sky as I got more coffee and used their restroom. I dawdled my way through town and stopped to see the stream. It’s finally running and bubbling again after being dry for months. Such a welcome sight and sound.

I bought my bread, and smiled my way back to my car and home to my family to meet the day.



I drained my travel mug, but refilled my cup, and you can’t put a price on that.

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