Coming to My Senses


Coming to My Senses

When it’s time for the Schnoodles 

to go to the groomers for the day, 

we leave before the sun comes up – and it’s breathtaking because 

in the early morning I see

the predawn Christmas lights still shining a fantasy of dazzling brilliance 

festive wreaths hung from red velvet ribbons on rural hometown bank windows

jetliners drawing Etch-a-Sketch pictures on a daybreak sky

steam vapors swirling up off the ponds, summer fishing days a half-Earth rotation away

a heavenly greeting hawk on a wire in the median – from Mom, checking to be sure my doors are locked, I’m not speeding, and I’m wearing my seatbelt 

a flurry of other more excited dogs arriving for grooming and daycare 

in the early morning I smell

a cup of fresh-brewed coffee, flavoring the car with high-octane energy for the day ahead

diesel fumes from school buses,

like the red double decker buses of London – bringing flashback memories 

still-lingering mineral soap scent inspired by the coast of Ireland, according to the box

in the early morning I hear

the silence of my car prayer chamber and God’s voice reminding me that there is both work to be done and life to be lived 

in the early morning I feel

the comforting heat flooding my feet and hands as I drive 

a frequent paw nudging my hand to turn the Rav around: “no grooming needed today, Mom….we’re good”

and in the early morning I taste 

the frozen air, awakening my lungs with the chill of newness as I walk the boys before taking them in for their early-morning groomings because yes, grooming is happening today! 

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