Mother Nature's Son

It's another early morning and I think Mother Nature has determined it's her job to help me prepare for board exams. I say that because she has consistently gotten me out of bed well before the alarm clock for several days running. It's funny because I've never been a morning person but around 6:30 there is enough light diffusing through the windows that my slumber is interrupted. Either that or it's the cat cruising for attention or the dog sprawled over me, generating enough heat to melt ice cubes.

Whatever the reason, I'm up and enjoying the quiet solitude. The sky is still a vague greyish-blue (remember, I'm color-blind and pastels are murder for me) but I can just make out a tinge of sunlight on the tips of the trees in the hayfield. It's chilly out and there was a frost warning last night reminding me this is Maine and the latitudes are a little northern, after all.

The dog just walked into my study and looked at me as if to say, "What are we doing up at this hour?" then dropped in a heap by my chair. He's willing to keep me company but only so long as he can sleep through it. The cat has ensconced himself in the north window and is engaged in a staring match with a chipmunk outside on a fallen log. I'm on my second cup of coffee and starting to feel human.

Canadian painter Leanne Cadden writes about emotion as prayer and I think she may have hit on something. She regards emotion is an active, rather than merely responsive, force and says, how we feel creates the environment around us. What we can't put into words is nonetheless a kind of communication that nurtures spirituality. I think it suggests we may influence the course of life without even knowing it.