here i am at the golden dawn, substantiated in immaculate light, these moments only caught by the early birds of the town, fishermen, swimmers, dog walkers and joggers. we are blessed in light like this, filtering down through some miraculous engineering. how can people not believe in a creator of this, an invention of pure bliss, why does it appear beautiful and spiritual, fill the heart with something more than reality tv, why is it that the incredible perfection of the wave and shells have more meaning than going to the bank. why indeed?
because it's real.
and mornings, dusk and moments of peace are when the real shines through, fracturing the stupid mess of politics, religion and stupidity, presenting clarity like charity upon the unwashed dazed and confused.
there's an edge in the air, a fatal factor that forbids me to enter the water, it's a strange fear boundary i have always had, the cold, but it's almost time for it to change as spring turns.
i begin with a huge house clean, mopping, dusting, wiping and sorting. mission control is looking better but it sure could use a paint job.