Sunrise at the homestead. The best time of day.
I walk out on the back porch, as I do every day. I am a daybreak riser. My two bulldogs are not. I get no acknowledgment. Nary a lifted head.
I reckon some are just not morning people — or morning dogs, as it were.
I like to pause for a minute, even if it is just a minute. A lot of years went by since I could appreciate this. No man-made noise. A turkey gobbles on the next ridge. On a really good day, I can hear two more respond to his challenge.
I can’t stay long. Miles to travel. Things to get done. Bills to be paid.
Sunset at the homestead. The best time of day.
I walk to the back porch. The bulldogs show their better nature. The oldest moans like a broken-hearted man. The other just smiles. They know intuitively that they are going to get a jaunt down to the creek or get fed. It is a win-win, either way.
This has been a long time coming. Dark soon. No man-made noise. A coyote howls on the next ridge. On a really good night, I can hear two more respond to the challenge.
As I write this, it occurs to me that it is the space in between these two times that kill a man. They call it “stress” today. In the olden times they just called it “livin’.”
A friend recently asked me if I had a “bucket list.” I said I didn’t. She looked at me as if I had shot her horse right out from under her.
Well why not for goodness sake?
Just don’t. Never given it that much thought.
I think, though, that I may change my mind.
I think I would like to see the best time of day as many times as I can.
Words Not On Paper 
The in-between time can be great too. Hang in there. Nice post.
Morning Young Sir, I to like early mornings, came from being a single parent, the only quiet part of the day. Gives a few moment for thought. As I get older, I think sometimes of friends and aquaintences that have passed and missed this, especially when in the mountains, riding my Moto and just stopping, breathing the fresh air and just listening. Thanks for the thoughts Ray.
Thanh you Bob. I would have guessed you were a morning man. Be careful on your Moto. Wish I was riding along too.
One day we may get that in, go visit the Skinny Guy in the hard scrabble village he lives in, make Him envious.
I don’t believe we could make that old skinny guy envious of anything. He knows he has it made in the shade.
What’s this “old” business? I take umbrage. I am like fine wine. As for skinny, I prefer svelte, sleek or trim. But I do have it made in the shade. Of that, there is no question.
A beautiful piece about appreciating the little things, even if may seem tough. Great work.
Thank you Elle. You are very kind.
Ahhh. I love pre-dawn mornings alone with a cup of coffee. Conversation first thing doesn’t come easily for me. I need to ponder and think of my coming hours. Sunset, again I long to be left alone for a short while to rethink the days events. This time with a Gin and Tonic in hand. Beautiful homestead Ray, your solitude is priceless I’d say.
Our views on those two times of day are the same. The silence is a bow on the gift.
I read a poem once that said “anyone can be free if they get up early enough.” I’ve always agreed with that sentiment.