Morning. Morning can be a welcome friend, or an unwanted foe. I used to call myself a morning person, and still it is true, but at times I wish the sun would wait a hour or two longer before calling me to rise.
Morning is quiet at my home. No children, no alarms clocks...just the lazy stretch of the cat or an impatient jingle of the dog's collar. "Please mama...my breakfast and a walk. I'm ready", she says as the sun sneaks through shuttered blinds.
Morning is a beautiful time of day. When I see it, I wonder why I don't embrace it more often. I remind myself that I like it, that it is when I have my best moments. 'Tis hard to remember that when weary eyes ache and remants of yesterday's stress lurk vividly.
Morning is like a clean chalkboard, or a fresh coat of paint. A chance to start fresh and new and leave the trials and sorrows of previous days on their own calendar block. When I take in the novelty and unexpected delights of the day, I feel better.