Greatful Mornings

                                            Greatful Mornings

                I watched the sky beginning to lighten with long strands of soft red, orange and yellow bands of light.  I could see horizon becoming brighter and the soft yellow light engulfing all the colors.  The bright white was soon surrounded by an azure blue sky, stetching as far as I can see. 
          I am here sitting in the cool damp air on the first step of my front porch.  I just put a towel down for a cushion  plus it soaks up all the moisture left  by the dew.  The dew is forming from all the cool air gliding down from the meadows behind my home.  The moisture always collects on the roof on days like today.  The watery dew trickles down the shingles over the eves and falls on top of my steps.  I don’t like to have a wet bottom when sit on the step. That is always a very uncomfortable feeling, one that can last all day.  In addition people pass silly comments about my wet bottom.  So, I always set a towel. 
         Rising this early has always been a pleasure for me  these many years.  I have a kind of biological clock inside me.  I don’t need an alarm to make me wake, I just wake up at four am everyday.  I have seen every sunrise for the past thirty years.  Except, those occasional cloudy days.  I see a great deal each and every morning as I begin my day.  The events of each new day are moments  I have come to look forward to entertaining me.  All the little things that occur are great events to a new day for me. 
         In a little while Bobby will be riding his bicycle down the street.  With a flick of his wrist he delivers the morning Chronicle over the fence and across the yard onto my porch.  The boy before Bobby would ring his bell. “Cha-king! Cha-king!”, was the sound it made.  He figured I would see it coming as he tossed his folded projectile toward my house.  Bobby was very intense about his morning mission and is more concerned with landing his toss on my porch.  I don’t believe he is thinking he might bounce his airborne paper off my head.  As he peddles down the street I see him line up his point of release.  The third section of fence is when he cocks his arm back over his head.  The second fence section Bobby flings his arm down across the front of his face opens his fingers and lets the paper start a rolling arc over my lawn.  With the flutter of a bird it sails over the porch railing, past the post and lands with a bang on the floor. 
         I swing my hand up through the air with a wave as Bobby is cocking his arm again for his next fling at the Wrunkle’s house.  I doubt he has ever seen me swinging my hand as he rides off.  So, now I pick up my coffee  and lean over the porch floor to pick up the news that has just arrived. 
          I’m not sure what I will learn from all the journalism spread across those pages today.  Living in this small town,  the today it might be Harold Mercer’s cattle getting out again.  Maybe Jenny Harlan’s geese dropping into Bill and Kathy Wilson’s pond.  Perhaps the Rebecca Women's Circle activities  from the night before.  This town may seem typical for most, much like other small towns across the nation but it is rich with warm caring people. 
         What great fun it is to visit the village luncheonette for breakfast.  I don’t go there every day, once a week is fine. An extra day sometimes.  This is were I get all the really good news.  Molly is the owner of the “Dish & Spoon Luncheonette”.  She will ask me if I want my usual, 1 plain toast, 1 egg over and a black coffee. I’ll nod yes and Molly will call it back to her son Tom.  Sally Johnson and her boyfriend for the last 30 years, Dan Wyck, are planning their trip to California, again.  They go every year and visit a different town each time. When they get back we all get to see there many there pictures.  Since summer is nearly over they will be leaving this August. Sally teaches at the elementary school and Dan is the basketball coach at the High School.  Some of the folks around town think they live in sin but most secretly wish they had a relationship just like theirs.
          I’m heading down to the hardware store to meet with a few of the boys.  We play checkers sometimes or just tell silly stories.  By the time all the guys show up it time for lunch.  Then we all shuffle down the street to Molly’s place. What a grateful morning it has been today.  Before I know it I’ll be back on my front porch waiting for bobby to hurl my paper again.