Morning Is Broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word
[sung by Cat Stevens – lyrics by Eleanor Farjean]

Just like sunflowers

I’m slowly learning to be more sensitive to where the sunshine arrives and travels so that my seedlings are placed to gain the light they need to grow.

All this time here at the new place, the sun has been rising over the roof of our neighbors’ huge place to the east. This morning, the sun rose north of their mansion, enough north that it struck me as rather weird to have the sun rising in the North. The seedlings and cats were confused as well, all leaning north toward the light.

Once I realized that the plants knew more than I did, I scrambled to get everyone into the right place to catch the light they needed. Well, every plant. The cats took care of their sun-catching positions themselves.

Is it cauliflower soup yet?

Out here in the desert with no moss on the trees, we rely on natural clues like the way the plants reach for the sunshine, the cast of shadows at certain times of day, the shiny print on road signs (South Main should be toward the South, right?), and the good ol’ dashboard GPS in the truck.

The truck was smart enough to tell me that North is actually THAT-a-way, not over where I thought it was, based on the direction of the street. In fact, it’s so far that-a-way that it’s almost where I thought West was. So the north side of the house could actually be the north-EAST side of the house.

It doesn’t matter which way the sun shines in, so long as (a) the seedlings get the prescribed amount of sunlight each day – 6 to 8 for most of them – and (b) the cats get the prescribed amount of sunlight each day, which is as much as humanly possible.

And for all you Cat Stevens fans, here’s a flash from the past – 1976: