the color of your day.

Faintly above the drone of my window air conditioning unit, the alarm clock chirped to me at 6:15 am this morning.  Never a morning person, I pulled myself out of bed and found my way to a class of water.  I tied on my shoes, I grabbed my headphones.  I paid a passive respect to the art of stretching and then I hit the trail for a little bit of early morning walking and running. 

I cannot quite remember what the colors were like when I first trotted out the door and down the path into the woods.  I vaguely recall that there was just barely the glint of daylight as I passed over the foot bridge that crosses the creek.  It was that kind of semi-darkness that makes you feel like it is not quite morning, like the sun has begun to fight against the night but has not quite overtaken her.  This was the most newborn moment of this infant Thursday, another one in a string of millions. 

By the time that I had worked up a good sweat and had sufficiently woken up, I made my turn down by the lake to begin the journey back.  There are no signs of cars out on the paths.  There are no people at 6:40 in the morning.  There is only this vast expanse of a calm lake to your right and a pond to your left.  A fishing dock that walks out a few dozen feet into the water.  Some benches and grass.  It's a scene of peace.  

As I made this turn I looked up and saw the color that my morning had taken on.  I looked up to see a world that was slate blue. It was a world that had a hinted blue and gray screen over its lens.  It was a beautiful sight.  There was nothing brilliant about these colors.  The blue of the water was just a slightly mellower tone from the blue of the sky, from the blue of the air around me as I trotted past.  Even the trees, in the waning days of summer, where not exploding with green, but were darker in their tone, subdued, mellower and, somehow, matched perfectly with that slate blue that surrounded me.  

I drank this in because the colors that I meet along the day fascinate me.  The whole science of color is amazing to begin with, but you really should look around and drink in the natural colors that you see everyday. The beauty of this world is enough to make you feel drunk, or at least very confident.  It makes you feel as if you are a part of something that is very good.  

Speaking of drinking... After the run and after the shower I made my way down the stairs for a customary cup of french pressed coffee.  I stood there in the kitchen, managing the boiling water, the toast in the toaster.  I prepared the mug with the right amount of Splenda and cream.  Just about the time that the plunger of the press was about to fall, I caught myself in the rays of sunlight that were pouring through the window.  At just the right time, at about 8:02 this morning, I was standing in a room that was soaked in a honey glow.  I was staring at a cylinder of glass that reflected the light that came from millions of miles away. I was witnessing the morning overtaking the night.  The color of the room changed, I changed, everything changed.  And then a few minutes later it was over.  The colors changed again.  I got in my car and moved on. 

There is a point that I want to make with all of this.  A point about beauty and change and all of those things.  I want to make that point, but rather, I will let you make it for yourselves.  It's there for you if you want it. 

Tatum.