My Perfect Morning

Praise in Creation
by Gerald Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things --
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced -- fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

 

I woke up early this morning, wrapped myself in my favorite fluffy white terrycloth robe, and headed to the balcony to say hello to the day. The birds were chirping effusively (all of nature believes it is spring), greeting the sun as it crept over the eastern peaks. Brewing a fresh cup of coffee to warm my hands and grabbing a bowl of muesli (oats, yogurt, nuts & fruit - my favorite breakfast goo), I settled back on my wooden chair, propped my feet up on the railing, and pondered this garden of aesthetic delights that we are so privileged to live in.

(The picture didn't do it justice, so I took a video to capture the birdsong. The quality is not great, but you get the idea...)