The day begins before the sun rises, as majority of my summer days have started the same way. The clock reads 5:45 and I just pulled into Laurel View’s driveway. Morning fog clogs the clarity of the horizon and green is all I see. From my memory I can distinctively tell fairway apart from rough, and green from fringe. But now, everything is rather one thing. All the shades of green have blended into a single subject. All I can see is emerald green in the vast acres of the golf course. I breathe in the crisp adolescent air as it moves smoothly through my respiratory system. I inhale the oxygen and as a result dispense the carbon dioxide ever so gently. My breathing remains steady as I am in awe of how beautiful nature is. Nature is so selfless. The trees give to the birds as much as the birds give to the trees. I feel the moisture of the morning dew just by swaying my hands through the air while the humidity point at 30% standstill. The morning is beautiful. The feeling I get from the morning is something I can only attempt to describe. The fact that we get a fresh start every day helps justify our action from the days prior and instills even more purpose into our daily routines. I think to myself irrational thoughts about the bonds of hydrogen and oxygen while I run my fingers through the dew build up on the ½ inch fairway grass.  The sun in pursuit of its 24-hour day has risen slightly since my arrival. The golf course starts to distinguish itself. Leaves fall of the trees while a morning breeze gives me just the boost I need. I smell the fresh cut grass from the maintenance crew whose day began at 3. The wet ground causes my shoes to endure a moderate soaking, but I know when noon rolls around the moisture won’t be relevant. I prepare for the 90-degree weather and one last time breathe in and breathe out. The clock reads 6 o’clock and its time to start my day.

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