The inky dusk filled the night sky. A shade of umbragenous ash filled the air.
A fire ablaze, flaming and powerful, it added a certain amorious warmth to the gelid air, slightly subduing the crisp winter temperatures.
I lay deep in slumber, snug and warm.
And just as the steeple bells rang, the first blush of morn presented itself. It pried its way through the tenebrous winter night, slowly proliferating, spreading like a net cast on the ashen sky. And slowly it dissolved all the ink in its bosky and lustrous luminisence, transforming it into the wild blue yonder, as it heralded the arrival of the dawn.
I sat there awake, in the quisence, aware of the world around me. All the sense wired and working in hyper drive.
Aware of the air whispering to the trees, the scents of the flowers, the sounds of the bird calls.
And what awe inspiring way to welcome the morning. To live each moment to the fullest. Our lives brimming with excitement.
Appreciating the nuances and luxuriating in the story of this Avant Grande Voyage.