It is false dawn, thirty minutes before the sun begins to lighten the world. In twenty minutes the true dawn will begin which is ten minutes before the tip of the sun touches the edge of the horizon.
The guineas are raising the alarm, there is a predator passing by or is stalking them. Without turning on lights which alert whatever is after the birds, I push the sheet back, drop the nightgown, pull on pants, slip into boots sans socks, and grab a blouse. The pistol goes on my hip. Picking up the scoped rifle, I'm headed out the door in two minutes or less. If it's a coyote he could be a half mile away by now possibly with breakfast if he caught the guineas unaware, which is nigh near impossible. If it is a coyote or any other predator, and he was detained, he's mine. Sixty seconds one way or another is life or death for livestock or predators. I try my best to be the deciding factor which one.

The birds are scattered, voraciously calling out the alarm as I leave the house. Checking the yard and close buildings reveals nothing. Jake, my faithful watchdog, is still in his doghouse, probably still asleep. He'll decide to investigate later on when I rattle his dog dish. Walking up to the ridge north to check the fields for fleeing varmints I am struck by the beauty God had laid out for me this morning. There is a light low lying fog covering the countryside all around me. Everything is wrapped in a surreal landscape filtered through a haze except where I am. Up in the now soft blue sky is a light pink veil like God had removed "her" scarf and dropped it. Words fail to describe it but I had to try. Ten or fifteen minutes later the morning was starting to come to the real dawn. The pink scarf disappeared, the mist around me turned to a light fog.

Standing there in awe of the beauty of the world around me, I am reminded why I kept coming "home" all my life. Every job, every big city, every trip was accepted because there was always "home" where I was born and raised waiting to accept me back. Detroit, Corpus Christi, Memphis, Tulsa, Wichita, and a dozen others were where we lived but they were never home. It's true, you can take the country girl to the big city but you can never take the country out of the girl.

Stop and appreciate what has been given you, no matter how big or small. The best in life costs nothing, isn't found at the Red Dog Salon, or Disney World. If you're a material girl I can guarantee you're missing the best part. Life doesn't mean one has to be the best or catching the biggest fish. Catching the little fish is fun too. And when it's over, I participated with millions of tears and peels of laughter.
What a morning!
hugs everyone
always,
Barb