Saturday, April 7, 2012


A morning visitor patrolling for breakfast
There is something about early mornings I find inspiring. As spring fully embraces my backyard, the sounds of early rising birds (and the occasional woodpecker) draws me from my slumber down the stairs to my table and laptop. Along with the peaceful silence of being the only one up in my house, excluding my three cats who think my sole purpose in life is to feed and pet them, I have grown to appreciate mornings.

As a teen, I wanted to sleep through them. As a working adult and mom, I rushed through each morning, so busy getting my children ready for our daily lives. It is these special mornings--like today--when there isn't a schedule full of events and a twinkling of an idea has awakened me that I truly like the morning hours. Perhaps it is the promise of a new day or the opportunity to begin writing without interruptions (excluding certain feline visits where my Maine Coon mistakes my leg for a scratching post) that I find appealing. All I know is my brain is awake, the Keurig is brewing, and I'm listening to Noelle tell me how her story is to be told.

Ah, mornings.

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