The Golden Morning Light

Sitting at the counter having my second cup of coffee, around 8:30 am, I feel the warmth of the sun on my back and I turn to see the slanting rays illuminating the leaves of my pregnant onion plant.As I look about the room I notice the sunlight filling the colored glass objects that once belonged to Aunt Mabel and I remember that she kept them on a window sill in her apartment. I wonder if she loved the way the morning light transformed simple glass into jewels.

Looking out the window I realize that this is the view from my daughter's bedroom window above and understand why she wants her bed in front of it--so that the morning sun shines on her and wakes her up and she can look out at the trees and their long shadows on the snow.

I love the warmth of the wood and the cluttered objects inside the window touched by the golden rays.

Later in the early afternoon, this being winter in Vermont, the sun disappears and the sky turns leaden and spits snow now and then, as if to remind me that the warmth of the sun is fleeting at this time of year.