One Morning In Las Vegas

I inhale the robust scent of morning. Measure the dark grounds into the basket of the coffee maker, pour cold water into the bucket and turn the machine on. Then picking up my prayer book, I walk onto the back patio, set down in a white plastic lawn chair and watch the eastern horizon. The horizon turned white by the approaching sun is partially hidden by blooming oleanders.

The oleanders are in bloom, their red and white blossoms filling the air with their scent. The perfume of the oleanders mix with the smell of stone pines and olive trees. Portion by portion the eastern horizon changes from white to pastel pink. Echoing, from inside the house, the noise of the coffee maker reverberates across the patio and into the backyard.

I open my prayer book and turn to the morning prayers. I intone the words of the dawn prayer, as Lion rubs against my right leg. While I read the prayer, the sun transforms the horizon from pale pink to light blue. Purring, Lion continues to rub against my leg. When I finish the prayer Lion jumps onto the round table, near the patio door and lays down.

From inside the house, the scent of fresh brewed coffee fills the air. I get up, lay my prayer book down, reach over and stroke Lion’s fur. Then I go into the house and pour a cup of fresh brewed coffee. I return to the patio, go to the screen door and watch Frenchman’s Mountains which is visible between the limbs of the oleanders.

As I sip my coffee the sun rises behind Frenchman’s Mountains. I watch in awe while the sun transforms the crest into a golden crown of light and I repeat the phrase “morning light of Thy favor” from the prayer I just read. Ray by ray the crown of glory fades from Frenchman’s Mountain. I look down at my empty cup, awestruck by the fact that I drink the entire cup without realizing it.