Sunrise

Recently, I moved my office from a beautiful downtown hi-rise to my farm. The view from my former office was striking. Located on the twenty-first floor, with glass windows comprising the exterior walls, from that office I could see for miles and miles. Directly below was the bustle of the city, spanning northeast one could see the interstate and some urban housing, and finally the mighty river and foothills of my beloved East Tennessee valley.

The view from my home office is hardly the same. My farm is secluded. This cabin is one-story. There is no "panoramic view" of anything. Nestled in the woods, the view is as you see in this photograph - the sun rises in that notch in the hills and greets me every morning.

I love this view more than I could ever express in words. I am so blessed to live on a farm more beautiful than I ever dreamed it could be. The trees surround me like the proverbial ten thousand angels - mighty sentinels that protect me and mine from wind and weather. And from the sounds of mechanized humanity. Hawks and crows and bluebirds and wrens and so many other birds and squirrels nest in the strong, swaying branches.

My animals and our wild neighbors coexist peacefully here. The deer graze alongside the horses. Coyote sing and the bobcat scream in the predawn darkness. I love their primal music and I am grateful the wild ones stay a respectful distance from my beloved pets.

Here, I live and work and play. I clean a barn before the sunrise. I lawyer to clients who care about my skills and not the square footage of any "brick and mortar" physical office. I create. I write. I think. I edit. I pray. I drum. I hike. I do all this and so many other things - all here in this tiny spot on the spinning spaceball Earth. Here where no other human can tell me what to think or what to say or what to do.

Home. Sacred ground. Holy place. Good morning, Tuesday. Let us begin . . .