By Rhonda Fitzgerald-Hunter
The sun rises slowly on the horizon, casting soft shades of pink and light blue across the sky. The colors blend seamlessly, giving the early morning an ethereal glow. Mature trees line the right side of the street, their dense green leaves towering overhead. Through the canopy of branches, faint beams from the streetlights peek through, still holding onto their soft glow as daylight gradually takes over. A black and white 25 mph speed sign stands quietly by the road, contrasting against the vibrant greenery.
The black, paved road stretches ahead, bordered on the left by older homes – some single-story, others two, all single-family dwellings with fenced yards. Trash cans, weathered and brown with barely legible white logos, rest at the end of each driveway, awaiting collection. On the corner, a bright red fire hydrant stands out boldly, a silent sentinel in the morning stillness. Occasionally a cyclist rides by on the path running parallel to the tree-lined boulevard, their quiet journey adding a subtle energy to the scene.
As cars begin to populate the road, their headlights cutting through the soft morning light, the quiet calm starts to shift. The low purr of engines hums through the air, replacing the silence of dawn with a gentle rhythm. The once serene morning is now alive with motion, though the tranquility remains intact, barely disturbed by the increasing activity. The cool, crisp air of a fall morning surrounds everything, carrying the earthy scents of dirt, grass, and trees, filling the senses with a clean and refreshing calm.
Despite the growing movement, there is a peaceful stillness that lingers, a sense of comfort and tranquility enveloping the scene. The air, fresh with a hint of morning dew, is almost palpable, leaving a clean taste on the tongue, subtle and pure. It feels as though the world is waking slowly, in no rush, maintaining the quiet ease of the morning except for the occasional passerby.
Rhonda Fitzgerald-Hunter 