Blue Skies

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Blue skies looking at me
Nothing but blue skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds from now on

I never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things goin’ so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you’re in love, my, my, how they fly

Blue days, all of them gone
Nothing but blue skies from now on

Foggy Morning

Foggy Morning

One of the joys of running in the early morning is observing the subtle changes as night becomes day.   During pre-dawn, the sky may be inky black if the moon is new, or illuminated with silvery light if it is full.  Cool, crisp days of winter slowly change into the steamy sauna of summer.  Today it was foggy, and thus quiet, except for the slap of my shoes against the pavement.

Morning Fog

Morning fog drifts over the landscape, veiling the meandering path, but permitting a view of the distant and darker tree line that floats on the horizon.

Sunlight slowly breaks, illuminating scattered clouds with pink and purple hues, and gradually revealing the colors of the grass and trees.

Dawn is a golden hour. If circumstances permit, it allows for quiet and serene contemplation.

God is the source of such splendor: King David said, “They who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs; You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy” (Psa. 65:8).

Again, the sweet psalmist of Israel said, “My heart is steadfast, O God; I will sing, I will sing praises, even with my soul. Awake, harp and lyre; I will awaken the dawn! I will give thanks to You, O Lord, among the peoples, And I will sing praises to You among the nations” (Psa. 108:1–3).

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