In a yawning predawn that makes me feel as if I am driving along the bottom of a deep ocean, the headlights of highway cars have strung themselves across the valley like a string of pearls laid carefully in place.
Soon, the pale shoulder of another day will split the mountains from the darkness.
Someone to be born.
Another to balance by departure.
A city to come alive where nestled into the foothills.
All around me, stars spiral upward as if to escape the emergence of light.
I merge my truck with the string of pearls and accelerate toward the city. This…the common, simple, beautiful way to begin a new day.--Mitchell Hegman