Mornings are free

It's another day. It's easy not to notice. One day seems much like the next when you're on the treadmill. Sliding through time with blinders on. But outside a grey fog has settled in, and there's a mist about, and the sounds of civilization are beginning to swell. It seems there is some life in these hills if you know where to look. Did I say hills? I meant in my body. I wandered the trails before the sun came up. The air was fresh and birds were everywhere. The skin of the lake was unblemished. And when I stood upon the dry dam and looked out at the waking city below, a strange thing happened. Dawn broke over the horizon. It's hard not to notice something like that.