A Morning Tryst with Nature
It was 5 a.m. when I stepped out into my small kitchen garden. The air was still, soft, and filled with that quiet promise only dawn can carry. My small organic patch was transplanted a week ago, already calling, especially the young collards, or “Haak” as we call it in Kashmiri. Their tender green leaves rising with enthusiasm gave me a quiet thrill. It’s a special kind of joy, watching your food grow right in front of your kitchen.
As I was tending the plants, pulling out weeds gently, watering with care, I had a podcast playing in the background. The episode was about the “Pursuit of Happiness.” One idea stood out: the practice of meeting the rising sun every morning. Not just seeing it, but experiencing it—standing in its presence, eyes open, and body still. This ancient, simple ritual, the speakers said, helps reset our circadian rhythm. Exposure to early morning sunlight boosts serotonin and sets the stage for melatonin production, nature’s own sleep medicine. A simple act so overlooked and yet, what a gift for the sleep-deprived among us.
So I waited.
The sky was lightly clouded, but at about 6 a.m., the sun appeared, slowly pushing through, like a golden bulb emerging behind ‘Sowar peaks’. I stood still, watching and waiting. When it broke through fully, I let my eyes welcome it softly. For a few seconds, I rolled my eyes gently toward the light, and something inside me woke up. There was no need for coffee - a sleep disturber with its 10 hours half-life. Nature had stirred me into alertness.
As I returned to watering the plants, I was suddenly struck by the holy trio before me: water, sunlight, and soil. Together, they hold the secret to life. I watched how the sunlight kissed each leaf of ‘Haak’, how the water soaked into the dark, fertile earth, and how the plants responded, growing with a sort of green gratitude.
And then I was hit by a deeper reflection: how similar we are to our gardens. We, too, need care. We need light, hydration, nourishment—and time. We need silence in the early hours to recalibrate not just our bodies, but our minds and souls. Gardening, for me, is not a task. It’s a daily meditation. It anchors me, grounds me and lifts me up in unexpected ways.
By 7 a.m., I was done with the garden, and ready for the gym. But the real workout had already happened—in the quiet connection with earth and sky, in the joy of seeing life grow, and in the peace that only a morning with nature can bring.
I share this not as advice, but as an invitation: step out early, even if only for a few minutes. Plant something. Look up at the sky. Wait for the sun. Let your body absorb what nature so freely offers.
Sometimes, healing begins not with medicine but with a handful of soil, showers from heaven and a sliver of sunlight.
M.A.Kawosa, A.I.F.C ; IFS., PhD.(India); PhD.(Germany), former CCF and Founder Director of Environment, J&K.
