Oh sure, once in a blue moon I still feel it, but more often than not, each morning is greeted with something decidedly less than awe and wonderment.  I wake thinking of my business day; chores that need to be accomplished; errands to run; tires that need to be rotated, which of course, leads to a feeling of being overwhelmed…even before my feet hit the floor. 

   
My grandson spent the weekend with me, and insisted on sleeping with me last night.  Translation:  I was awakened every hour with a foot in my face, an arm thrown over my head.  All delivered by a little boy cocooned in a down comforter, the entire down comforter. Deciding I was too battered and too cold to remain in bed, I was up before sunrise.  And there it was. The most beautiful, amazing, awe inspiring sunrise I’ve ever seen.  

 
The colors, too passionate to be called “pinks” or “yellows”, played across the ripples in the bay, reflecting against the downtown Miami skyline.  As the inferno inched its way upward over the horizon, the buildings were ablaze with its beauty.  
The seagulls, unaware of this fiery spectacle, effortlessly drifted, barely moving their wings as they caught current after current, their bodies floating on unseen waves of air.

   
For a moment, the briefest moment, I shared in their sense of freedom.  I could feel the gentle waves of air, caressing my body, lifting it, gently offering it to the next invisible wave…over and over again.  I felt small, small and joyously free.  
Oh, that “something wonderful” is still there.  I just don’t often take the time to see it.

  
Speaking of “something wonderful”, he wants oatmeal.

"Something Wonderful" by D. Gustafson, copyright Mama's Secrets, 2007.  All rights reserved.