Whenever there are triple digits in the hour - like 5:55 - my kids always say, "Five fifty-five! Make a wish!" (or two twenty-two, etc). At the moment of today's sunrise at 5:55, I was wishing for a lot more mornings like this one.
My camera's reproductions can only begin to do the day justice. Besides, it wasn't any particular visual beauty that made this morning so striking. It was just...perfect.
The air is fresh and tantalizing as it plays across your face, and it is just cool enough to be comfortable in an open jacket. The birds are in full twittering chorus (and I recognize a few more, having attended my first bird walk the other day). Bullfrogs are sounding their deep bellows with gusto.
Wildflowers carpet great spans of field, or fill smaller shadowed glades under trees. Clouds drift in magisterial splendor across the sky, changing colors in the expanding light of day. And of course, there was the full moon.
No bugs, no rain, perfect temperature, sublime symphony. I had to sit in the chair by the pond for a while and just be in it.
(editorial note added on May 30th: For the last three days I have been an hour off on my posted sunrise times. It was not 5:55, but 4:55 this morning. I've corrected it now, which will make it confusing for future readers. But I'll leave the rest as is. Call it a permanent record of my vagaries and silliness.)