Master Bedroom of Audrey McElwain & Michael Olivier
Asheville, NC
September 14, 2008
Sunrise: 7:11 AM
Sunset: 7:39 PM
Audrey and I were awoken by this strange, but settling light this morning, rushing in through our bedroom window like a soft and cuddly hurricane. It flooded over our faces, and the face of our son, Mason, gently rocking us and whispering, "Wake up my dear little sweet ones, wake up the day is ours..." and other niceties.
I thought I was dreaming some odd sequence of events where cats would crawl on the fence, count off to four, and then in harmony began singing (perhaps this was because I mentioned Garfield yesterday to a friend: www.garfieldminusgarfield.com) or where I had scratched my face and began sewing it back together with a steralized needle and thread and it didn't seem to bother me.
But lo! I was not dreaming of days or years past, I was being pulled from my dreams, ever so gently, and welcomed into the day by this light, this strange, but settling, light. What was it? It caused the trees to glow as if nearing spontaneous combustion. It filled the room and made it that I could see without turning on a light or lighting a candle. What was this glorious, sensational light that I never get to witness?
Oh, it was the hour after sunrise, and our son, the human alarm clock (who has no setting later than 7:00 AM) missed his mark and we made it not just to sunrise, but a glorious hour later. I shall shower him with praise and adoration for the remaining 11 hours of day light. He will be a god unto us for this day.
