From My Patio: A Fire-Red Dawn

We've already established that I'm not a morning person.  So anytime I'm obligated by appointment or duty to arise before I'm ready, it's accompanied by great growling and grumbling. So it was that I arose at 6:15 this morning, in order to breakfast, shower and awaken enough for an 8:00 am doctor's visit. I begrudgingly kicked the covers off, rolled out of bed, and stumbled to the kitchen for coffee, followed by an even sleepier puppy. But as I opened the sliders to the patio, it "dawned" on me that this was not to be the average morning.
No chirping of birds and crickets. The usual critters' chorus had been replaced by a slow, soothing drip of raindrops. What a treat! Rain is such an infrequent gift in the desert, it is an occasion to be savored. I curled up under the patio eves, coffee cup in hand, content to postpone my morning rush.

It had been a stressful week, marked by a dog attack on my sweet puppy, the third such vicious encounter in eight months. It seemed that humanity's malcontent and unease had spilled over into the animal kingdom. The world looked very much out of control.

But as I sat in the stillness of hushed sprinkles and distant rumbles of thunder, a profound peace fell over me. Low clouds raced across an ever lightening sky. Misty gray patches gave way to growing holes of brighter blue. Suddenly, the sky ignited, ablaze with fire.

What was that old nautical adage? Red sky at morning--sailors take warning!  I smiled. A lifetime ago, this superstitious individual would have taken the red sky as an omen. But this morning...for the first time this week I felt completely and utterly at peace. No worries, no bad joo joo. Our fleeting storm passed on, leaving everything fresh and new, washing over me like an early morning baptism.

Had the Universe orchestrated this pageant for my personal enlightenment?  Perhaps.  God is in control, and I don't have to be. I don't even need to understand it. And all I can say is, "Thank you, God...thank you, God...thank you, God, for this most perfect day."