Some mornings are better than others. I do love to see a blueberry waiting for me early in the morning, not to mention a little dish with chilled apple juice. But, it is not always the case. There are days that I am forced to wait for SOMEONE to arrive and call me “Sweetie” ten thousand times before I actually see my breakfast emerge.
But that’s OK, I suppose. Because as I wait for the day to start I have a chance to look around and notice the charm of mundane and average. I hear the birds slowly waking up with rattle of a feather, or two. I see an ant pass hurriedly in front of my feet, and a leaf fall from the weeping willow tree. The air is often still, but full of promise. You can almost hear the grass grow stretching its blades in hope for a drop of rain and a kiss of sun. And all of that happening right in front of you “in the wee small hours of the morning, while the whole wide world is fast asleep.” I find it pretty. No?!