"A Coffee Garden Walk Morning" (Image & Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
It is dark now when my alarm wakes me—these August mornings carry the hush of a late summer prelude. I rise, not quite awake, but moving. As I’ve often told my closest friends with a knowing smile, “Just because I’m up and moving doesn’t mean I’m awake.” That’s why the coffee maker is always set the night before—my small act of grace to the self that stirs before dawn. With a flick of a switch and a reach for a favorite, well-loved mug, the promise of coffee becomes the first miracle of the day.
Leona, my ever-faithful orange tabby, is already in motion—talking to me in chirps and trills, supervising the morning with tail held high and eyes full of feline wisdom. We move together through the rituals of early morning, partners in this quiet beginning.
Outside, the air is thick—the dew point has already climbed into the uncomfortable range. As my mother used to say with a shake of her head, “You could cut the air with a knife this morning.” And yet, even in this heavy warmth, there is beauty. I cradle my coffee and begin my sacred morning walk: through the garden paths, to the edges of the woods, and finally to the little lake that rests just beyond.
In this not-quite-awake state, I become strangely more aware. The stillness of the flowers, the early calls of birds, the silence between the sounds—all of it enters me, saturates my being. There is nothing to chase in this hour. Nothing to fix. Just presence. Just wonder. The phlox bloom in shades I do not remember planting—perhaps the rain brought them forth in new vibrancy. A gift. A mystery. A marvel.
These routines—coffee, cat, garden walk—might seem simple. They are. And yet, in their simplicity, they offer profound grounding. Rituals can ensnare, yes—but they can also free. They are the roots that let us rise, the still point that gives us wings. This morning, I soar.
I think of the words of Dr. Wayne Dyer, wise and gently stirring:
“Don’t evaluate your life in terms of achievements, trivial or monumental along the way... instead, wake up and appreciate everything you encounter. Tune into the sunrise, the little children, the laughter, the rain and the birds. Life is nothing more than moments to enjoy one at a time.”
And so, with Leona by my side, a coffee mug in hand, and a bloom of phlox radiant before me, I begin this magical morning not by doing—but by simply being. The day opens, and I walk into it—awake in soul, if not yet fully in body.
* * * * * * * * * *
“I thank you God for this most amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.” ~E.E. Cummings
~Wylddane
Leona, my ever-faithful orange tabby, is already in motion—talking to me in chirps and trills, supervising the morning with tail held high and eyes full of feline wisdom. We move together through the rituals of early morning, partners in this quiet beginning.
Outside, the air is thick—the dew point has already climbed into the uncomfortable range. As my mother used to say with a shake of her head, “You could cut the air with a knife this morning.” And yet, even in this heavy warmth, there is beauty. I cradle my coffee and begin my sacred morning walk: through the garden paths, to the edges of the woods, and finally to the little lake that rests just beyond.
In this not-quite-awake state, I become strangely more aware. The stillness of the flowers, the early calls of birds, the silence between the sounds—all of it enters me, saturates my being. There is nothing to chase in this hour. Nothing to fix. Just presence. Just wonder. The phlox bloom in shades I do not remember planting—perhaps the rain brought them forth in new vibrancy. A gift. A mystery. A marvel.
These routines—coffee, cat, garden walk—might seem simple. They are. And yet, in their simplicity, they offer profound grounding. Rituals can ensnare, yes—but they can also free. They are the roots that let us rise, the still point that gives us wings. This morning, I soar.
I think of the words of Dr. Wayne Dyer, wise and gently stirring:
“Don’t evaluate your life in terms of achievements, trivial or monumental along the way... instead, wake up and appreciate everything you encounter. Tune into the sunrise, the little children, the laughter, the rain and the birds. Life is nothing more than moments to enjoy one at a time.”
And so, with Leona by my side, a coffee mug in hand, and a bloom of phlox radiant before me, I begin this magical morning not by doing—but by simply being. The day opens, and I walk into it—awake in soul, if not yet fully in body.
* * * * * * * * * *
“I thank you God for this most amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.” ~E.E. Cummings
~Wylddane
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