Sonrise

The cats woke me up late this time; the sun was risen though low, and I felt a compulsion to go find it. The sky was more like a sunset than the last couple of days, streaks of red and pink in old country foreboding; red sky at night shepherd's delight, red sky at morning shepherd take warning! Sometimes the shepherd is substituted with a sailor. The meaning doesn't change though, from the fields and hills to the sea.

Anyway, dismayed at what I can barely see because of that house, I left mine and went across to the railings, slightly embarrassed in case anyone sees me. I'm in my oodie and slippers, I haven't even washed my face yet. Clearly I'm embracing the crazy aspect of crazy cat lady with particular aplomb.

There I could see the sun, not so much round as scarab shaped, courtesy of surrounding clouds. The light was rich deep gold, again remininiscent of sunset rather than sunrise, but it was beginning to lift into that more diaphanous yellow that belongs to the Spring. I watched a while, then came back, fed the cats, read the day's tale of an empty tomb.

Why am I doing all this? What are these early mornings about, apart from breakfast for demanding cats and extraordinary dawns? I don't know, though I've been down a few rabbit holes in trying to write this entry. I have much to do today and maybe this is why all my writing feels like blather. To those who celebrate, I wish you a very joyful Easter, and to those who do not, may you have an excellent sunday.

So much for red sky at morning. It's a beautiful day.