Seek a Message in the Quiet

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The day begins before 4:30 AM most days. It will be an hour before the light begins to creep into the woods. A fire has begun blazing through the semi-opaque glass door in the stove. I step out onto the porch in the dark to fetch more firewood about 4:45. It’s Thanksgiving morning and I notice something slightly different right away, but I’m not sure what it is. What do I usually sense that time of the morning? My ancestors always noted the weather first. It is damp, with a temperature that must be upper 20s. It’s a little frosty but not a bone-chilling cold, not even close to that. It isn’t the shocking cold in the nose and lungs that will be here soon enough.