early light in the morning

Do we really want to experience the birth of the new day? Where are the nights losing their darkness, turning into dawn, heralding the first morning light? You may remember the drunken nights or the sleepless ones in a train corridor. Staring through the window, listening to the rhythm of the galloping wheels. Or in hospital waiting for the night nurse to bring tea on her last round, whispering. All long ago.


The sun was shining already when I finally stood up. W. had brought tea and was busy finishing her garage job. I had missed dawn, its magic. But I had luck this morning. The sun was up, indeed. But under a rosa blue sky, a thick layer of mist came drifting down the river valley. It wasn’t our famous River Dragon. It looked more like a low hanging cloud.


Carlsheaven was completely invisible. Only on this side of the river you could see that characteristic small tower of the Villa An der Saline. The birthtime of the world was still to come. The emerging, slowly of the harbour town world out of its protracted icy night veils. I watched this marvellous scenery unvellop itself. Vaguely some dim contours of the church tower, the Rathouse looming up.The rest staying hidden.


And similar to this a discovery of the real repeated itself in the afternoon. During our forest walk. First we heard the grunting of some boars in the bushes on the steep hill slope. And after a while slowly this caravan following their track. The big ones first and a slipstream of piglets. So many of them! And then higher up we saw the deer going in the opposite direction.

It is night now. I will go outside in a moment and greet the stars. Grateful for what the previous night had  brought to us in the beginning of this day. And again wishing you a refreshing sleep before the next morning will start with an unknown unveiling of its birth