Sunrise broke a couple of large marble pots leaning against the walls of heaven and sky. Did you know that the colors of dawn and dusk are stored in these magnificent stone jars? They stand waiting in the wings of aurora and twilight, ready to be broken open and slathered across the horizon. 

Freshly released, amber light began to spill and stain the dayspring’s crack of new birth, called new mercies, between heaven and earth. Morning rose gently above the mountain peaks in a glorious display of colorful illumination and subtle power. 

My husband’s face reflected the golden rays of first light too. His eyes sparkled with the delight of discovery like a little boy let loose for a day of playing in the forest. We exchanged eye twinkles and smiles. 

The September air had turned fallish, crisp and chilly. We arrived just in time to watch a dozen elk cross the shallow end of Lake Mary. Heads bobbing above water, the herd waded, en masse,  steadily through the deep to the gravelly shores of the western side of the lake. Water and sun mingled and glistened from their coats like shining yellow topaz in the early light. 

One by one, their mighty legs and heavy hooves lifted them up and out of the water. They danced and bucked their back legs up to shake the water off. Invigorated by the cold, the bulls leapt and jumped and threw their majestic racks back with abandoned joy. 

Bundled in flannel shirts against the mountain breeze, we stood mesmerized and blinked the tears away–our coffee cold now, and our hearts aflame.

-Bonnie Saul Wilks