being late and finding magic

I missed my alarm this morning and woke up at 7:36 am.  I’m usually on my way to work at that time.  I hate that feeling. After you’ve been soundly sleeping to suddenly be thrust into your day, catching up the moment your feet hit the floor. It makes me cranky.
Han was up and I wondered why he hadn’t thought to wake me, but the thought immediately following that was, “it’s not his responsibility.” But when he saw me pulling on my jeans and asked what was wrong and I said, “It’s 7:30 and I’m late,” it came out with a hint of accusation. He recoiled and closed the door as I went about my flurry of getting ready.

I didn’t have time to try to explain myself. I didn’t have time to wash the dishes or take out the trash.  I was out the door by 8 am. Tired, frowny and already feeling frazzled.

But it is a beautiful morning. Early sunshine and a slight cut to the temperature.  Driving along the freeway, I noticed a bird and with a flash of realization saw that it was a gorgeous, large red-tail hawk.  Usually they are in the air or perched on the top of a tall light post so it’s hard to see them, but this one was sitting on the top of a small bush on the side of the freeway, only slightly higher than eye level and I was able to really look at her (well, as much as you can while driving past it on a freeway).  But I saw her and her air of authority. She was beautiful.

It was Han who first pointed them out to me. He has a great eye for them and always sees them before I do.  But this one I didn’t miss.  I couldn’t.  And if I’d been one minute earlier or one minute later, I wouldn’t have seen her.  So maybe this day is going exactly the way it should.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. mamacita says:

    I love this post, it’s poetic. Is like take time to smell the roses. Not to let small things get you down.

  2. mccabe says:

    i am not a morning person and can relate to this.

    love the poetic tranition from feeling off and cranky to noticing how beautiful life really is.

    YOU are magic.

    mccabe x

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