Saturday, September 24, 2016, 7 am, 55 degrees
The eastern sky looks as if an artist brushed in pale pinks to add some contrast to the blue sky.
I return to the bridge for my seventh consecutive day. Clouds that blanketed the sky last night after dark are all gone. To the west, traffic is light on the Sunrise bridge. Whizz and roar of traffic carries through the air.
Morning temperature of 55 degrees continues. As the sun rises, it casts a warming light on the bridge. I enjoy feeling its warmth on my face. I wear my denim jacket again today to keep the chill off my arms.
Roosters do not know it is Saturday and the village folk are sleeping in. They wake the day with their morning symphony. I walk quietly and slowly to the bridge today. My body would have preferred sleep.
Early Saturday mornings are not the time for talking, deep conversations or blasts of radios on the bridge. Far better to stay with focused contemplation to prepare myself for the day.
Fishing boats are in their places. Ducks, geese, birds all still sleeping. Pigeons rest on frames of the bridge, heads tucked under their wing. Morning air feels moist, although none of it settles on my car windows and doors yet. Those days will come soon enough.
Kayaks arrive on the boat launch ramp for an early morning float. A few walkers pass me. Most everyone else has yet to wake up. By 8 am or 830 when I return to my car to go home, the bridge and Fair Oaks Village begins its daily buzz of people moving about on the street and in their cars. The roosters, well past waking up, crow periodically to attract attention.
I have often walked to the ends of streets in neighborhoods where homes sit on the Fair Oaks Bluffs. These residents wake up every morning to panoramic views of the marvelous gifts of the natural world.
Today I see many more spider webs attached to the bridge. Spiders weave such intricate patterns of circles and lines and triangles from a central starting point. Do spiders know how to count? How do spiders create such perfect geometric forms? What beautiful models for teaching math outdoors!
Are their web random patterns that turn out near perfect every time? They must have incredible patience to spin and wait, then spin again when a gentle breeze blows their fragile artwork into fragments. Why do I see most of the spider webs on the east side of the bridge?
Noticing spider webs on the bridge, the calls of roosters, the arguments between ducks in the river are simple pleasures. Far too often, we pass by these sounds of life and do not listen. We are on our way to somewhere else as quickly as possible.
Being outside at the river, on the bridge, or on the trail can be inspiration to slow my pace, to listen and “be” once again.The morning is my foundation and quiets my urge to keep “doing.”
The sun has risen high over the trees. A dozen cyclists rumble by me in their cycling attire and as many walkers are out now with their dogs. Morning has come and everyone is awake.