I awoke to the sounds of mourning doves, a sound that transports me to the summer mornings of my childhood. I always thought they were "morning" doves. I lay still enjoying the feel of this new day, hearing now the faint calls and clucks of Gambels quail over the soft breathing of my lifetime girl and thinking what a lucky man I am.
I ease from the bed and move to the back patio. The sun has not yet broken over the craggy peaks that are the eastern wall of the valley, but the pink glow is quickly sliding to yellow. The air is cool and gently stirring. I was going to work on my current project, the history of a prominent Globe, Arizona ranch family, but instead found myself feeling the need to blog about this simple quiet morning.
It is a great blessing to have a some time of solitude to adjust ones spirit; as it is a blessing to have a common spirit to share it with.
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