There is a pearly, silken, cloud swirled sky. The sky reminds me of something close to a sigh- gray but not too blue. The sun itself comes gloriously, perfectly up, rising from the end of the world- the horizon. My horizon, however, seems closed in; trees, fog, hay fields block my view. But there's something good in a sunrise right behind the treeline too, don't you think? The sun comes up slowly, but the light comes bursting forth stretching itself out, trying to touch everything all at once in childish curiosity. Light does something marvelous to this world. It scrubs away the blackness of the sky and replaces it with a lighter, sweeter color. The sun blushes to the roots of her horizon too in the most feminine loveliness. I love how the sunlight seems to get stronger, like tea, as it steeps.
To mix up L.M. Montgomery's quote, I am so glad we live in a world where there are mornings. You see, seasons come and go, thoughts live and pass- as do people. We find ourselves holding more fiercely onto the things that we once thought monotonous- like mornings, like schedules, like emails, hugs, journals, and life in general. We are funny creatures. We say we want to be spontaneous, do stuff all of a sudden, go on wild adventures, well, you know. And then the moment our schedule changes, we fall all to pieces. Suddenly, all this glorious flexibility ceases to be a virtue and all I know is that somebody needs to fix the lost time and make me a cup of tea. I despise wasting or losing time and I think in their own way, everyone else does too. And these days, everything seems to be slipping away or falling apart, and my sanity is rapidly galloping away. So on these days that I know are going to be hectic, it's nice to step outside and take a romp. To at least remember there are some places in life that will always be there. Like mornings.