Morning Cycle

The tree had a halo.

At least that's the way it appeared as the yellow globe rose from behind the ancient oak tree early this morning.
Though in full green leaf, the tree looked black against the brilliant glow.

It was the beginning of another cycle. I could almost hear the deep resonant chanting of a hundred Zulu voices, could almost see hundreds of animals converging on the towering tree, could almost see a baboon climbing amidst the branches while a certain Red-Billed Hornbill flew in from above.

I would not have been surprised in the least to have heard Circle of Life start playing on the radio.