Mornings…almost no one likes them, yet we all face them every day. I am one of those, who like most of you, who is NOT a morning person. I’m grumpy, moody and gruff until I’ve had my second cup of tea. Then when the fog of sleep finally clears I can begin my day.
The mornings at the Hilltop are different.
When I get there, there is no one around. Its quiet except for the chirp of the early morning crickets and still except for the scamperings of squirrels gathering their hoard for the winter. Before sunrise I can be alone with my thoughts and clear my mind of anything that may be weighing me down. It’s a wonderful way to start the day.
The Hilltop is uniquely situated on the mountain, with a view that catches the sunrise as it breaks the horizon between the mountains. Thousands of people have shaken the dust from their bones and thrown wide the curtains to witness the majesty of the day breaking over Harpers Ferry. I’ve seen it so many times that I’ve become almost numb to it.
I’ve never thrown my gaze over the Mona Lisa’s wry smile, but the guards at the Louvre have a million times, it’s very much like that.
But every once in a while, it stops me dead in my tracks. Every once in a while, the magic of this area catches me and makes me remember why i always end up back here.
This morning I woke up as normal, poured my obligatory cup of earl grey and put myself together to go to work. I was in a less than pleasant mood because my shoulder hurt. That wasn’t what bothered me; what bothered me was I recall a time when I DIDN’T sound like an old wooden ship being battered in a storm as I got out of bed. I gave Negan his breakfast and grabbed a Bartlett pear for mine and headed out the door. It was crisp this morning, and I liked that. Yesterday’s rain had washed the last humid trappings of summer from the air and the cool kiss of fall was starting to set in. I sipped my tea and walked to the point lookout where the valley yawns before you at your feet.
I stopped and smiled. The scene was awe-inspiring. The sun was JUST breaking over the mountains and the morning mist was pooled in the river valley like a bruja’s cauldron. I grabbed my camera from my pocket and snapped the above photo.
A picture really IS worth a thousand words, and this one speaks volumes.