A gush of fresh air thrusts through the window, making the beige colored curtains of my room to recoil upwards and waking me up from my deep slumber. It is five o’clock in the morning. I reluctantly get up, yawn, wear my flip flops and measure the length of the room to the window, with a sheer motive to latch it. But the scenery outside is so tempting that I instead walk up the stairs leading to the terrace, surmounting the innate desire to sleep some more. As I pave my way to the railing I ponder what it would be like to get up and experience the vivid visage of nature, everyday, as the first thing in the morning. The faint amount of sunlight beaming through the canopy of the trees, the vivacious chirping of the birds, the swift swirling of the air that envelopes me, the convivial cooeing of the pigeons, watching their graceful movements, and all the sweet nothings which work as a therapy to the stoical soul. I reckon, though it is easy to surrender to confinement, it is easier to taste the serenity of nature’s bounty. It has been eight hours since my delightful encounter with the dawn, yet my skin refuses to shed the elixir it has voraciously consumed. I am looking forward to another tryst with dawn, when I can remove my moccasins, let the air breathe through my smock and allow the wind to rape my hair. Till then, I will live peacefully savoring the taste of today’s nectar!