My Morning Drive

I am a visual artist.  It will come as no surprise that I have a gazillion random photos on my cell phone.  I have pictures of odd imprints in picnic tables, tree bark and half fallen fences.  I consider my cell phone an extension of my sketch books.  It snags little snippets of detail that I want to remember. Sometimes the cell phone camera just can’t do it.  This morning I found myself wishing I had both, my “good” camera, and the skill to use it.  I had neither one this morning.  Even if I could sear the image into my mind, I could not possibly sketch it.  It simply wouldn’t translate well into a quick thumbnail sketch. I don’t know if I have the skill to work it into some future painting but I am compelled to lock the image into some shareable memory.  It was a fleeting, temporary thing.  I wish you could have seen it.  I have resigned myself to write it.

My Morning Drive

It is cold here in St. Clair.  The Weather Channel ap on my phone says it is 12 degrees.  The sky is that boring bland white.  I look out my kitchen window and immediately feel some remorse for not having filled the bird feeder.  The trees are covered with a soft white substance.  I think it looks like frost, but not quite.  It really reminds me of a pussy willow branch, all covered with fuzz.  All the trees, shrubs, bushes and weeds are covered with it.  It is a cold fuzzy morning.

I love driving my friend’s children to school in the morning.  It gets me out of bed and moving.  I am always thankful for that drive past the river as the sun comes up.  It is so stunning to see the sun cast such lovely colors across the river.

I snap up a coffee from the drive through at Tim Hortons and we make our way up Clinton Street.  We get a little acceleration going just before the railroad tracks so we can catch a little “air” as we go over them.  It is our little rollercoaster thrill every morning.  It is a guaranteed laugh.  That is always a good way to start the day if you ask me.

Then it is Carney to Range as we make our way to Marysville. 

It was there, driving along Range road this morning that I noticed the magic of this morning.  The sun casts its light on the trees and brush.  The trees always have that pink color to them in the morning.  Today was no different.  Pink trees with splashes of vibrant gold as you travel along.  But this morning all the trees and bushes seemed to be covered in a fine, magnificent, glitter!  To the right of me there were tall trees with pink upper branches on the left, a small clearing of golden bushes.  All covered with glitter!  All along the road, barren bushes all fuzzy white were blurry and sparkled!

That was it.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the scenery.  It was a Disney kind of magic and I was so grateful to be alive and witnessing it this morning.  Carpe Diem?  Nope.  I don’t want to seize anything.  I just want to sit still and watch it until the heat of the sun makes it all go away.  It was all I could do to keep at the task at hand.  I had to deliver that precious little stinker in my back seat to school.  Secretly, I wanted to just pull over along the side of the road, drink my coffee and snap a bunch of pictures.  Instead, I just drove on, watching the magic.  All the while offering up the whispered thought, “thank you”.