Turning the water on I stand and stare at the sliver of white moon in black blue sky.
The choirs of cicada have returned loudly singing Hymns of Praise.
Everything I need is in the outdoor shower so I brush my teeth, bath, shave under the fading stars.
The Cat Lady next door has a light on but isn't making any noise.
Our neighbors across the street have a security light which is on blazing in my direction so I pull the door shut just enough to deflect.
No one's walking their dogs or jogging on our street yet so I'm not compelled to completely shut the shower door.
I take my time because it's such a great and Holy way to start a day.
Shutting the water off, I grab the towel and wander across the deck back inside the Man-Cave porch, up the stairs, across Goddess and inside our bedroom.
Throwing on black running shorts and a UGA tee shirt, I pause to kiss my sleeping wife on the top of her head.
Creeping through the living room I notice for the first time that Laurel, the 11 year old, and Cassidy, the 8 year old, are asleep on the sofa.
They are not sleeping in a good way but have arms and legs thrown in every possible direction as though a bomb exploded between them.
They are the epitome of sweet beauty.
In the kitchen I swallow the blood pressure and cloistral medicine, grab dog treats, throw them at our animals and tip toe outside where I slide into my flip-flops.
It's time for coffee and community so I drive 110/MPH down backstreets to The Breakfast Club meandering in the door marked "Exit/Only."
Johnny O greets me with a verb followed by a pronoun.
"Any time you want," I answer pouring myself a cup and sliding on the stool across from his.
Sometimes we're quiet but often it's a laugh fest as the cooks finish prepping and need some relief before all Hell breaks loose with relentless customers.
They won't stop moving until they close ... then they still have to move some more.
Just as they open, we leave and I make my way back home.
Tip toeing inside, I grab more treats for the animals who follow me to the Beloved Back Deck where I open my computer to watch the world.
Grabbing my I-Phone, hitting play, "The Boat Drunks" drown out the choirs of cicada as the sun rises into the Palm Tree with the oyster eyes, coconut bra and grass skirt.
By now I am completely lost in thought ... about people I love ... prayers ... perplexity over how shitty things are ... hopefulness of what today will bring.
Occasionally I tip toe inside to see if Sarah's still sleeping.
If she is, I tip toe back outside.
If she's not ... it's morning kisses.
And that's how the day begins.
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