In the moments that I stood outside in the chill of the winter's morning air, I forced myself to breathe deeply, and surrender to the moment: the cold, the dark, the silence, the contrast of the brilliant stars against the black blanket of sky. The wisp of a moon cast a soft glow behind the silhouette of limbs. There was not a rustle of leaves; there was no city's glow. Just the stars and I were witnesses to the waning night. The faint beginning of a new day was erasing the blackness overhead, loosening its grip on the night.
How I love the early morning, and the subtlety of the changes, barely perceptible to my senses so accustomed to the blatant barrage of sights and sounds throughout the day.
Be still in the silence. Listen to the quiet, and notice the nothingness of the night. Allow yourself to experience this apparent emptiness until it starts to expand your spirit, and you become aware of the fullness and richness it brings into the depths of your soul. The quieter you are, the more you will hear. Sweet, precious night evolves into the dawning of another blessed morning.