Man, what a beautiful morning. I'm growing to appreciate being awake at 5 a.m., which I can't say I ever saw coming. But you can't beat a clear sunrise, where the whole eastern horizon slides through a spectrum of oranges, reds, and pinks. This morning, while I was driving into that sunrise, it was just cold enough for the air to draw droplets water out of the warmer lakes and streams and snare them, suspended in delicate sheets of mist.

There was a man I used to know, who every morning would awake and - rain or shine - go on a short walk, whistling "Oh What a Beautiful Morning." Today made me think of him.

I wish I had pictures, but imagine me driving along, one hand on the steering wheel, one holding my cell phone out the window. Not such a good idea, I suppose. And sometimes a scene like that gets lost in a picture, as if the world and its aura are too big for such a small frame.