Nothing more beautiful than a monsoon morning!
The alarm went of with its precision calling, at 5.15, half asleep I lifted one eyelid, dawn had broken but the skies were dark. Our dog Boxy didn't stir, an indication that she had no intention of heading for a walk just yet.
A couple of minutes more in bed, and then a quick round of getting ready for the walk, Boxy's now all ready and geared up; and off we are.
What a glorious morning! Gentle breeze wafts the cheeks, silence rules the morning, the early birds chirp their way, the plants all seems so happy and cheerful;
Cat Stevens epic number rings in the brain, all of 40 years after he sang; 'Morning has broken';
Morning has broken like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing,
Praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the world.
And as one walks down the park and gardens that adorn our neighborhood, nature is in full glory, with each leaf shining so clean and fresh, the marvel of the monsoons knows no bounds, the grass of the wet garden under our feet gives a new prance and joy to Boxy, who's infectious happiness of being out in the open this glorious morning can but bring a smile, and Cat Stephen again;
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dewfall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass.
Nature's infinite creation, the cool crisp air, the gentle rays of sunshine, each day, each morning, a new day, a new morning, always there, never failing to cheer, and start you day with a spring under your feet!
Mine is the sunlight,
Mine is the morning,
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning,
God's recreation of the new day.
The alarm went of with its precision calling, at 5.15, half asleep I lifted one eyelid, dawn had broken but the skies were dark. Our dog Boxy didn't stir, an indication that she had no intention of heading for a walk just yet.
A couple of minutes more in bed, and then a quick round of getting ready for the walk, Boxy's now all ready and geared up; and off we are.
What a glorious morning! Gentle breeze wafts the cheeks, silence rules the morning, the early birds chirp their way, the plants all seems so happy and cheerful;
Cat Stevens epic number rings in the brain, all of 40 years after he sang; 'Morning has broken';
Morning has broken like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing,
Praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the world.
And as one walks down the park and gardens that adorn our neighborhood, nature is in full glory, with each leaf shining so clean and fresh, the marvel of the monsoons knows no bounds, the grass of the wet garden under our feet gives a new prance and joy to Boxy, who's infectious happiness of being out in the open this glorious morning can but bring a smile, and Cat Stephen again;
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dewfall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass.
Nature's infinite creation, the cool crisp air, the gentle rays of sunshine, each day, each morning, a new day, a new morning, always there, never failing to cheer, and start you day with a spring under your feet!
Mine is the sunlight,
Mine is the morning,
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning,
God's recreation of the new day.
