Chapter 1 And Certainly Comfortable

And so it is, in the still of this early moment, that all is peaceful and undisturbed and certainly comfortable. It is quiet, but for a distant thunder, which makes sense, for this is the season of raging and plentiful storms.

The air outside is heavy, especially for the morning. It's stifling and overbearing at times, so much so that even a whisper of an opposing front will cause quite the havoc in this present atmosphere.

The rumbling fades in and out, right there on the brink of today. It is curiously comforting as it lunges with perfect pitch and rhythm. Even so, this is likely just a storm for another part of town; an outlying area.

And so it is quickly forgotten.

Inside, the coffee is brewing, the air is conditioned and the pause in this pre-dawn is pregnant with noble and conventional expectations. The adventure that has cascaded and thrilled through previous chapters is merely incidental now, but yet, oh so worthy of further reflection.

So, this will be a safe day like the others, filled with introspection and inner growth and, perhaps, even periodic (but entirely sincere) risk management of the religious sort. In the fullness of this day, the cocoon that’s slowly formed as a friend will conceal and nurture and cajole the quiet development of that very special something, that mystical but oft repeated spiritual growth. Right there in its perceived core, in the holiest recesses of the soul, a beautiful array of colors will ensign the dull -- yes, deep within proliferating and protective borders.

Day after day after day, the maturity is nearly palpable, the knowledge, expansive.

Yet, strangely enough on this calm morning, in concert with the obvious progression of all things wise and beautiful, the color of the room begins to change. The darkness that was there, so soothing just before, gives way to a compelling tint that is spilling over the ledge of a nearby window.

And so the blinds must be pulled back to reveal it.

There is hesitation, of course, because it's much more comfortable to simply sit and lose oneself in more study and contemplation, just like the countless days before. But today -- something about today -- it is just too hard to resist.

The hand reaches slowly for the cord that will change the direction of the Levolor. A drum roll cracks and claps from the recesses of nature and it seems eerily well timed -- and then, with a deep breath and a flick of the wrist:

There it is!

It is the most stunning sunrise to break the horizon in some time!

The sky is overwhelmed with brilliant oranges and purples and pinks and vivid blues. There’s a familiar explosion of color and its pigments bleed into the outline of burgeoning clouds. Behind them lies the outline and dimension of darkness; of fleeing shadows.

And all of a sudden that far-off thunder seems to be rolling with more authority now. It is escalating and reverberating, almost as a crescendo to this symphony of hues.

But the threat of a storm makes no sense. Surely this sky speaks of all things promising.

Maybe, just maybe, this day will not be like the others.