I like to wake up early when I’m on the farm in Iowa. Everything is quiet and at peace. This morning I woke to a gift of nature. A world that had been frosted with a late night fog. The barn cats and I were the first to gaze upon the beauty as the sun quietly rose.
This old tree is caked with layer upon layer of glistening frosting. I gazed upon it as I filled the coffee maker and fed the impatient cats circling outside the patio door. They didn’t seem to see the splendor of the morning quite the way I did. The old copper-colored cat rubbed against my bare leg as I poured a scoop of food into their dish. She purred her warm motor with gratitude for an early breakfast. In the distance I could hear the beef cattle lowing as they rose from their sleep. The deep-throated sound of their first morning breaths let out even more fog into the crisp air.
The quiet peace of early morning is ending as the day begins before I’m ready. Even the coffee maker is sputtering its last deep brown drops into the decanter. My now chilled self is ready for that first sip of morning. Within minutes my son is staggering out of his warm blankets and into my arms. From his nurturing arms I hear a quiet, “Morning Mom”. The snuggle lasts and lasts and makes me smile. I just love early morning on the farm.