what an odd morning. i woke in a dark room from a sad and terrible nightmare. i noticed a yellow-orange daylight peeking through tree leaves and curtain edges as i shuffled to the bathroom. downstairs, i fumbled with a fearfully small number of coffee beans, pleading with the Universe for my own fish and loaves moment, and saw the strange yellow-orange glow deepening…not like sunrise, but something more surreal.

my twelve beans ground and watered, prayers for abundance prayed, i plopped down on my couch to check some headlines and read a post or two. i heard the coffee pot plodding through its typical morning motions, water hoses stretching, dumping black-enough liquid down the yawning throat of my carafe. through the french doors to the deck, i noticed the glow grow more haunting and less natural by the minute. i double-checked my sanity and a light switch, the outdoor lights are broken, they cannot be on. right? 

having lived in lots of tornado towns and a few hurricane alleys, i felt compelled to peek at yahoo weather and then at the sky. the forecast was unremarkable, but a strange september glow permeated all of the air, all the way up  to a cloud deck unsure of its own thickness. half asleep, i dismissed the eerieness and thought about falling backwards in time…just a few more weeks until we stop saving up our daylight for the harvest.

by then, black-enough liquid was wafting its siren scent and a day’s promises through the morning air. i grabbed a cup and softly smiled at the mixture, ever grateful that my fish and loaves brewed up this strong. it won’t be a lot of coffee, but it will be good coffee…and there is a starbucks on my way to work…an office i’m actually going to today in a rare show of executive dedication. as i walked back to my laptop, the day’s deadlines, my wordpress pages and a snoring couch dog, i heard the noise, unmistakable and soothing, of a morning deluge. in the next few minutes, a few booms of thunder and a thousand buckets of rain washed that yellow-orange glow right out of the sky.

i knew it. the color of a storms coming. green electric air or orange incandescent air…they both bring up my hackles gently, like hot breath at the back of my neck. it’s calm again now, everything soaked, the air a mundane morning grey. today feels soft so far, though i suspect it will grow chaotic as more brightly lit hours approach. this mood, this morning, is unexpected after the excitement and rollercoaster ride of recent weeks. i take pause to breathe. i try to muster an enthusiasm i don’t feel, while savoring a calm i don’t often experience in the middle of a work week.

it feels like a draw-the-curtains-and-sleep-all-day kind of wednesday. that feeling couldn’t be further from the reality that’s warming up my google calendar as i type. i do get this dreamy, this sedate…when the air gets heavy enough to weigh down my eyelashes, when the world outside doesn’t want to wake up any more than i do. and here i am looking for humor and wit and brilliance to share while all i have is this soft mid-week sigh.

yawn. dream. drink. dress. do. i’ll find something to laugh about. i’ll find enough coffee and company to turn myself into the spazz we all know and sometimes love. for now, i’ll let the silence in my heart and head wrap this day in a blanket of humidity, humility and humanity.

(and as i proof this, the first sound of a real wednesday pokes  my quiet morning mind…my cat is hurling. on hardwood. oh yeah. and the coffee pot is empty already. God help me. starbucks delivery anyone?)