It was around 5 a.
M.
When Joan was awakened by the soft wind rolling in from her opened window.
She snuggled in tighter to her warm,
Woolen covers and listened to the muffled chirp of the crickets singing in the distance.
The cool breeze of summer's morning air tickled her forehead and blew the loose hair across her skin.
She could hear the early risers preparing for their days in the houses next door.
They had places to be,
Coffee to brew,
Teeth to brush.
She pictured them down below,
Each life in miniature,
From her warm bed above.
Like small ants,
They bundled up,
Grabbed their keys,
And emerged into the crisp morning.
But unlike them,
Joan had nowhere to be.
School didn't start for another week and she was enjoying the last bit of uninterrupted time with her family.
Her parents were still sound asleep down the hall and Albert,
The family beagle,
Was curled up at her feet,
Breathing rhythmically into the hot blanket.
She could feel his small paws twitch as he dreamed.
Maybe he was chasing a butterfly or running through a field of tall grass.
Joan stroked his smooth fur coat and slowly slipped her legs to the floor.
Her robe hung on the back of the door and she wrapped herself up in its comforting weight before heading slowly downstairs.
Passing through the kitchen,
She realized that her dad must have already woken up and gone on his early morning run.
A large pot of coffee was sitting on the stove and its warm,
Toasty aroma enveloped her as she walked to the back of the house.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes,
She noticed the first glimmers of sun on the hardwood floor.
Three stripes of light painted her lower leg and bent onto her thigh.
She slipped on her sneakers.
From toasted coffee to fresh grass,
Joan descended into the backyard.
From his spot at her bedroom window,
She could see Albert's long ears swooping back and forth as he watched her go.
Smiling,
She faced back towards the trees and took a moment to breathe deep.
The trees seemed to breathe with her.
They swayed and yawned,
Releasing their scent into the summer air.
They invited her to venture deeper into the forest.
Joan had lived there for nearly her whole life and knew the woods better than anyone in her house.
But something about the early hours of dawn gave the trees shimmering green leaves and newfound magic.
Joan floated between their trunks.
The long flower petals of the blanketed ground brushed against her ankles and lifted her into the cool air.
The crickets that she had heard from her warm bed were now a wall of humming vibration.
Their songs buzzed together and filled up the space around her head.
With these two sensations,
The purple flowers and the crickets chirping,
Joan felt completely safe and supported.
Even though she was still half asleep,
She was aware of all the songs of all the birds and all the branches.
At first they had blended completely into the hum of the crickets.
But now,
Each bright note lifted out from underneath and floated to the top of her attention.
It wasn't long before she reached her destination.
The hidden river was still dark,
But small drops of morning light had reached its edges.
The outermost reaches of its smooth surface ebbed back and forth,
Lapping over each petal of the forest floor.
Joan sat cross-legged on the ground.
This was her favorite part of the day.
Of the whole year.
The perfect silence would only last a few more minutes,
But she savored every second of it.
As the last of the morning darkness began to fade,
Joan breathed the deepest breaths she could and snuggled even deeper into her favorite fuzzy robe.
