Waltz the Highlands

If I had to describe my feelings for the day right now in one word at 6:53 it would be a combination of despair and adventure so that one word would be…….denture?

Usually I awake pleasantly and jump up and head off with gusto into the moment. Today I had been lying awake but had just started to drift off again when the alarm went off and much to my surprise my first reaction was to ignore it. Different.  I changed and headed out into the early morning with great un-enthusiasm. I trudged along as though performing a chore I detested but was necessary, like changing the litter box.  That is when I came across the musky, unpleasant smell of skunk. It was not fresh as though the little varmint was near, it just lingered more prominent in some places than in others. I also noticed the scent of grass, wood from damp fences, and soil. The fences were damp? The air was warm and wet. I heard a cricket stop chirping as I walked on and noticed that the grass was twinkling under the street lights as though handfuls of diamonds had been strewn across them with abandon.  That is when I noticed a flicker of white and a rabbit scatted through the grass and around a corner. Off in the distance I could hear the traffic on the freeway but playing over that was the croaking bellow of a toad. As I gazed in his direction my eyes caught a pale veiled light hidden in the dark sky and as I watched it a fine thin curtain lifted for just a moment and a heavy black one dropped over it all. I turned to get a better look and realizing she had an audience the dark velvet curtain slowly parted and the moon dressed in black gossamer made a brief appearance as if to wave good bye and vanished again. I turned my head and looked up the long straight street I still had left to conquer before I was home. The streetlamps were lined up like soldiers for my review and each one of them was crowned with a bright golden halo that melted into a creamy honey light and then pale buttery yellow out into and becoming part of the damp warm air. I skimmed the still dark houses on the street and I realized with some sadness that they were not privy to the beauty I had witnessed.  I was bewildered to find myself at the corner of that long street and 4 houses from home. What at first seemed like trudging had become almost a waltz through a damp misty morning.

Do you think this is how a highland morning starts? If so then Lady Tamara www.HighlandTitles.com needs t’ be there not here.

Come…..waltz with me…..