Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

It’s impossible to be lonely
when you’re zesting an orange.
Scrape the soft rind once
and the whole room
fills with fruit.
Look around: you have
more than enough. Always have.
You just didn’t notice
until now.

— Amy Schmidt, Abundance (in memory of Mary Oliver) (Rattle.com, January 20, 2019)


Notes

Sunday Morning

September 16, 1943.

How smart and understanding nature is, always leading us to the most beautiful!

 Patricia Highsmith, “Patricia Highsmith: Her Diaries and Notebooks: 1941-1995.″ Anna von Planta (Editor). (Liveright, November 16, 2021)


DK @ Daybreak. 7:20 am, January 23, 2022. 20° F, feels like 10° F. Calf Pasture Beach, Norwalk, CT. More photos from this morning here.

T.G.I.F.: Such longing…to lift our wings even a single time…

  


Notes:

  • DK @ Daybreak. 5:50 to 6:00 am, August 13, 2021. 76° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
  • Post Title from “Such longing. How large the muscles in our shoulders must be to lift our wings even a single time.” David Romtvedt, from “Dilemmas of the Angels: Poems” (Louisiana State University Press, 2017)

Easy now. Gently. Slowly. Boom!


DK @ Daybreak. 5:11 to 5:43 am, August 3, 2021. 62° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

Sunday Morning


More from this morning @ DK @ Daybreak. 4:50 to 5: 40 am. June 27, 2021.  Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT

Saturday Morning

Sometimes you are privileged with a glimpse of the other world, when the light shines up from the west (or the East) as the sun sets (or rises) and dazzles something wet. The world is just water and light, a slide show through which your spirit glides.

— Fanny Howe, The Wedding Dress: Meditations on Word and Life


Notes:

  • Quote from Whiskey River. Thank you. (Quote edited by me to include “or East” and “or rises’)
  • DK Photo @ Daybreak May 22, 2021. 5:48 a.m. Calf Pasture Beach, Norwalk, CT. More photos from this morning here.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

We ought to ask ourselves again and constantly: Why fill our lives with such effort and torment, when we know that we will be here only once and when we have such a brief and unrepeatable time in this indescribably beautiful world?

— Semezdin Mehmedinovic, My Heart: A Novel. (Catapult, March 9, 2021)


Notes:

Saturday Morning


DK @ Daybreak. 6:45 to 7:06 am, March 20, 2021. 32° F. Rowayton Beach, Norwalk, CT

Sunday Morning


DK @ Daybreak. 7:07 to 7:21 am , March 14, 2021. 38° F. Rowayton Beach, Norwalk, CT

the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

—  Mary Oliver, Wild Geese


Photo: Daybreak. Jan 9, 2021. 6:54 am. 24° F, feels like 13° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT

Happy New Year!

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter…
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart pumping hard…
I want to be light and frolicsome…
and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.

— Mary Oliver, “Starlings in Winter” in “Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays


Notes:

  • Photo: DK, Birds @ Daybreak. Jan 1, 2021. 6:45 to 7am. 30° F, feels like 23° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT. More amazing scenes from this morning here and here.
  • Mary Oliver’s poem “Starlings in Winter” was edited. Full poem here @Mindfulbalance.  Thank you Karl for sharing for the Mary Oliver poem and the inspiration.

Tuesday Morning Wake-Up Call

Remember when you would have been over-the-moon thrilled to have just a fraction of your life as it is now?

Look around you: it is enough.

KEEP MOVING

Maggie Smith, Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change (Atria/One Signal Publishers, October 6, 2020)


Photo: Daybreak. December 15, 2020. 6:39 to 7:09 am. 29° F. Feels like 23° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT

One pair of eyes is simply not enough


Notes:

  • DK. Daybreak. December 9, 2020. 6:16, 6:52 & 7:00 am. 30° F feels like 23° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT
  • Post Title: One pair of eyes is simply not enough. Mary Ruefle, from “The Life of a Poet: Mary Ruefle” (Library of Congress, May 15, 2015)

Sunday Morning


Photo: DK, 6:30, 6:35 and 7:12 a.m., Sunday, Nov 29, 2020, 33° F.  Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

Saturday Morning


Daybreak. November 14, 2020. 6:40 to 6:50 am, 41° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT. More daybreak shots here.

I’ll take the sea with me, deep in my bones, its tides making their way through my soul.


Notes:

Gash in the heavens

The only other source of light is a gash in the heavens, its edges bubbling with clouds, as though the sky has developed an infected wound. The moon’s glow pours through.
 
—  Hisham Matar, The Return: Fathers, Sons and the Land in Between (Random House, July 5, 2016)

Photos: DK, October 9, 2020, 6:10 to 6:40 a.m. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT

Sunday Morning

Autumn light is the loveliest light there is. Soft, forgiving, it makes all the world an illuminated dream. Dust motes catch fire, and bright specks drift down from the trees and lift up from the stirred soil, floating over lawns and woodland paths and ordinary roofs and parking lots. It’s an unchoreographed aerial dance, a celebration of what happens when light marries earth and sky. Autumn light always makes me think of fiery motes of chalk dust drifting in the expectant hush of an elementary school classroom during story time, just before the bell rings and sets the children free.

— Margaret Renkl, from “Our Days Have Always Been Running Out.” I greet autumn with a stillness I never felt when I was younger and in such a hurry. (NY Times, Sept 20, 2020)

 


Photo: DK. 10/4/20. 6:17 am. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

Daybreak. September 7, 2020. 6:20 to 6:40 am. 67° F. Humidity: 86%. Wind: 6 mph. Gusts: 11 mph. Cloud Cover: 4%. The Cove, Stamford, CT

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call


Notes:

  • Daybreak. August 31, 2020. 5:59 to 6:08 am. 60° F. Humidity 70%. Wind: 6 mph. Gusts: 7 mph. Cloud Cover: 32%. The Cove, Stamford, CT
  • Inspired (again) by Helen Macdonald: “I kept trying to find the right words to describe certain experiences and failing. My secular lexicon didn’t capture what they were like. You’ve probably had such experiences yourself – times in which the world stutters, turns and fills with unexpected meaning. When rapturousness claims a moment and transfigures it. The deep hush before an oncoming storm; the clapping of wings as a flock of doves rises to wheel against low sun; a briar stem in the sun glittering with blades of hoarfrost. Love, beauty, mystery. Epiphanies, I suppose. Occasions of grace. — Helen Macdonald, Vesper Flights (Grove Press, August 25, 2020)

%d bloggers like this: