Daybreak in Paradise – Pre-dawn musings of a fortunate fellow . . .
By Ben Porter
I rise before first light to witness another of God’s miraculous revelations, the beginning of a perfect new day in Paradise…
Marsh Oaks, my beloved marsh-front hideaway beside the Julienton River on Harris Neck Island, is as close to Heaven as God will allow me to go in this life.
Nestled deep among endless miles of lush marsh and tidal creeks in Georgia’s pristine Golden Isles, my gazebo and favorite old rocking chair face west, where
stunning sunsets produce a colorful magic sunset show every afternoon. This dark, pre-dawn morning, a setting sliver of moon produces just enough light to see the silhouettes of horizon and landmarks.
In the quiet reverence of this hour, I sit astonished by the absolute silence of my refuge. The tranquil absence of sound is broken only by the soft whisper of my own breathing and the slow rhythm of my rocking. I imagine I hear my heart beating, but am not sure. I know no other place to hear such quiet.
Long before the sun rises above the live oaks behind me and begins its journey across the day, the world comes slowly to light and life. With each increase in intensity and elevation, the sun casts a new wave of color and shadow across the marsh, from early gray to brilliant lush shades of green, with enough gold accents to remind us that this treasure is very special.
The world slowly awakens. The first sound is songs of the birds, then the flutter of their wings and vocal chatter of their presence. The earliest are flights of Woodstorks, Ibis, Egrets and Herons, lazily winging south over the marsh in white and silver clouds, bound for their favorite sandbars along the river. They don’t hurry; breakfast will be waiting.
At the gazebo a few feet from my chair, the little folks arrive. At first light, the voracious Hummingbirds show up to greedily attack Jim’s sugarwater feeder like it is their last meal, ignoring the rich nectar in the bright red begonia blooms on the deck below. They go for the easy meal, then hover and buzz and squeak two feet before my face before darting back to a nearby tree to guard the feeders. The “hummers” show up in mid-April, after a long and hazardous trek from Central America. They’ll summer and raise their young here and will leave mid-September.
At the seed feeders, the first to arrive are the “showbirds,” the Painted Buntings, fresh from Mexico and Central America. Our most colorful visitor, the tiny male is adorned like royalty, a miniature parrot with bright patches of red, blue, chartreuse and gold. His mate follows, more modestly dressed in the loveliest subtle shades of soft olive-gold and gray.
Next comes the cocky Red Cardinal, prancing, preening and chirping, his little red crest of a crown twitching about. He struts about the feeder like the Catholic cardinals in all their colorful finery dancing around the Pope. Once he has established ownership, his mate gracefully sails in. She is much more genteel, less noise and action. Her quiet dress is of muted shades of red and silver.
Finally, the little Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Wrens, Redwinged Grackles and a few others show up for breakfast, all chattering and happy.
From the ballast-stone chimney in the house, a black whirlwind cloud of chimney swifts boils out to enjoy their mosquito and sand-gnat breakfast in the marsh. Diving and swooping, the little acrobats will eat thousands of the pests today.
In this lovely, quiet, tranquil place, no thought of adversity or turmoil may intrude. The miracle of God’s universe takes my breath away and reminds me how beautiful and precious life is, and how richly God has blessed our world and us. I am filled with humble gratitude to be allowed into this marvelous cathedral of God’s nature.
The sun is up, presiding over another perfect Spring day. As I rise to begin another day, I mouth familiar words…
“This is the day the Lord has made. Thank God! Seize the day and make it yours!”
Tags: birding, harris neck, jekyll island, jekyll island vacation, marsh oaks, pre-dawn bird watching
