This photo. This sight.
Bathing grasses in gold,
Carpeting tidal pools
In glistening yellow sparks.
Yet, that sight
Is a fraction.
The seeing just
A tiny suggestion
Of dawn’s extent.
Waking sensations wash over me as
My camera captures the rising
And I am here, inhaling every other bit.
A great horned owl’s low hoots
Harmonize red winged blackbirds’ trill,
Elbowing through the snow goose honks.
Morning’s beautiful cacophony.
The sunrise sound immersion
In the bracing February chill.
Me, breathing in marshy sea scents
And a gulp of thin-air lung-freeze.
This photo. This sight. An invitation.