One morning this winter the coyotes came to visit. It was a family, a mother and four pups. Jim wanted to get all five in a shot, but they wouldn't pose together. The pups tumbled and played and they all took turns stalking and hunting in the pines at the edge of our yard.
One morning this winter I got up early enough to see the sun rise over the tree line. Through the window I watched the frosted leaves of a Dawn viburnum, very aptly named, greet the sun.
One morning this winter the sun was already up when I opened the bedroom door. The sun, seeking enlightenment, was examining the books on the bookshelf.
One morning I noticed that there will be flowers on the magnolia next spring. The fat fuzzy buds, oblivious to snow and polar vortex temperatures, promise it.
I'll be ready.