Dawn Patrol

...pink fingers of dawn slid over the distant horizon.
“We’re here Lizzie! Hurry, out of the truck.”
“Finally. Now what is it you want to show me.”
“This.”
“What?”
“This.” Minerva Jane swept her arms in a circle. “This beauty.”
“All the way out here this early to see a lake. I thought we were going fishing?”
“Hush Lizzie, listen.”
It was quiet. They stood still, arm in arm looking out over the water. The lake was so still, that the paths the ducks and geese took across the pond looked like ice skater's lines in the pollen floating on top. Mist curled up from the lake and formed translucent clouds of fog just above where the water kissed the shore.

Lizzie was lulled into quiet reverence from the beauty of the early morning. A bullfrog with its deep-throated bellow echoed the morning wake up call. A blue heron skimmed the surface searching for fish on his way over the placid water.
Lizzie looked at her grandmother. The sparkle in her eyes reflected the lake and Lizzie could feel her grandmother absorbing the beauty and the energy from the scene in front of them.
Then she understood that it wasn’t just fishing that they came for. She held Grandma’s arm and drank in the tranquil splendor of the early morning.
“It’s beautiful grandma,” Lizzie whispered. “Yes, it is, I’m glad you like it,” Minerva Jane squeezed Lizzie’s arm gently.

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Above is an excerpt from a short story called: Dawn Patrol. Minerva Jane is my paternal grandmother combined with my sister Andrea and Lizzie is my niece, Ainsley. Grandma MJ passed to her forever home long before Ainsley was brought forth to this earth. I hope through this story, she may meet a grandmother who would have given anything to meet her.

Today I feel like I'm on Dawn Patrol. I woke up to the sound of the great horned owl in our back acres hunting. They hunt directly after midnight and shortly before dawn. Today at 5:23 I heard the Whoooo whoooo who who, then again whooo whooo who who. I waited for the terrified scream of a rabbit or squirrel, but the hunter went home without breakfast this morning. In one way I was glad of it today. I enjoyed the serene rustle of the leaves, the cheerful twittering of the dawn birds and the cool caress of morning on my sleepy skin. I thought of Minerva Jane and the smell of white bread toasted to golden perfection with a thin spread of peanut butter on top. The rich smell of brewing coffee and coal oil nibbled at the edges of my memory as I watched the ground squirrels foraging for seeds and fresh tiny shoots. Ah, Dawn Patrol...my favorite time of day.