Friday, May 9, 2008
It was still dark this morning when I woke to find my best friend Starr Ann (hi, Starr Ann) standing beside my bed holding a thermos of coffee.
I said, "Why are we awake?"
"Because we're going to the pond and watch the sunrise like we haven't done in about a million years."
"Oh." I got up and started dressing.
Starr Ann poured us each a cup of the coffee. "Don't forget how cold it gets in those last few minutes before dawn. And how damp." She opened my closet and picked me out a heavy hoodie.
Holding hands on one side and our cups on the other, we strolled through all the familiar places - out our double gate, across the middle pasture, over the creek trickle, along the narrow woods path, up watermelon hill, through noodle pass, and finally around the pond rim to the side where we were facing east. Starr Ann has real nice hands.
The quietness had texture to it. Seemed like everything - trees, dirt, animals, grass, just everything - was hushed up trying to hear the Sun rustling around under that black horizon, all nervous, getting ready for today's big appearance.
Then this one bird couldn't stand it any longer and started in with the most intricate, twirly, show-off birdsong you ever heard. It was so over the top, Starr Ann got to giggling, and when Starr Ann giggles, I can't keep from cracking up. I went to knock her on the arm to get her to shush, and in the dimness I missed. Ended up falling backward and kinda not exactly screaming, but just making a little bit of a surprised sound. Well, that caused about 5 deer, who I guess'd been sleeping just beyond the cattails, to jump straight up in the air and first run in our direction, then stop, then run the other way.
Starr Ann was bent over double, she was laughing so hard. Evil thing did have the decency to help me up, though. Eventually. Once we were both upright and gettin' it together, we slowly turned to look across the pond. The Sun had already slipped up and clear of those distant treetops.
Starr Ann high-fived me. "Missed it again."