I was awakened at dawn by visiting dogs who wanted to go outside. Right now. When they woke me I was very comfortably and happily asleep, and I was feeling resentful at the intrusion into what seemed an important dream. The dream, like many, was long and convoluted, but it had a recurring message, "If they do not know how important they are, how can they shine?"
I was pondering this message as I dressed, grumblingly put leashes on the dogs, and took them outside.
I stepped out onto the deck, and the world was lavender. A full moon was nestled in a bed of lavender clouds over the ridge, my huge petunia plant was blooming in lavender glory, and a violet mist hung over the meadows that surround my home. The dogs and I headed up the silent road. I noted the early changing maple leaves, the hundreds of spider webs covered in dew in the grasses and weeds that line the road, and the darting flight of a bat as it returned to roost.
Two loons were calling from the pond. Their voices echoing up to through the purple mist of morning. I gave the dogs a thankful pat. If they do not know how important they are, how can they shine? They gave me the gift of a lavender morning. That will shine in my memory for time to come.