I had a tickle in my throat. It woke me from my slumber and was painfully persistent. Exasperated, I opened my eyes and noticed there was hardly any light outside the windows. The quiet was thick and stuffy, interrupted only by the occasional snore from the room next door.
I tried to stifle my coughs and my throat clearings which would not subside. Finally, I sat up and slid out of bed so as not to disturb my friend sleeping next to me. I reached for my water bottle– empty. My throat was parched and crackling. Encouraged by the chill in the damp air, I snuck out of the room as quickly as possible toward the kitchen for some water.
While waiting for the liquid to do its work, I stood in the kitchen and looked out the wide windows into the backyard. All I could see were rolling green hills that sloped off gently to the cove below. The waves steadily moved forward toward shore as the tide came in.
Restless, I tiptoed to the living room adjacent to the kitchen where the two walls of windows provided a view that was nothing short of breathtaking. The rolling hills were now off to my far left and my vision was filled with the expanse of the cove. A small island directly in front of me had edges like a superb fillet of fish, cut on the diagonal, rocks flaking apart as though a giant fork had just indulged its first bite.
Overhead, the spiders were swiftly swooping and spinning their morning webs in the corner of the windows. The lighthouse off to my right was keeping steady time toward morning with each pulse of light. One small boat made its way out of the cove into the open sea.
Then standing, slightly shivering (from cold or otherwise), I watched as the sky faintly glowed pink, its color in contrast yet harmonious with the vibrant green of the hills. The birds heralded with song that dawn was approaching. My own melody burst from my heart and flooded my mind with athemic music.
As that border line became tinged with tangerine, I realized that the tickle in my throat was quite possibly a tickle from God. It seemed no coincidence to be woken up and driven out bed only to experience the profound glory of a dawning morn. I wrapped myself in a nearby blanket and sat on the floor and just watched, attempting to memorize every single detail through which I’ve normally slept.
I braced myself to see the liquid gold of the sun breach the crest of the hills, but in typical Ireland fashion, the clouds rolled in and the sky returned back to a pre-dawn shade of gray. But it was enough. I silently gave thanks to God for what I had witnessed. The tickle had subsided, and so I crept back to bed, my heart full before the day had even begun.