Golden Hour



That time of morning when the fog still clings passionately to the dewy grass.  When the darkness starts to slowly slip away from its dance with the moon.  I hear the first of the early birds start to call "good morning" to each other.
  

Candlelight holds a different kind of magic here; I feel like Elizabeth Bennet.  That I might look out my kitchen window & see Mr. Darcy's intense stride crossing my lawn ready to proclaim his devotion to me.  


Padding lightly on the cold floor as to not disturb the dreams of others, I revel in this moment.  To be alone with my morning thoughts, setting intention for the day ahead.  Cradling my coffee, topped with warmed stroopwafel, I savor each sip, each bite.  For in an hour's time there will be a stirring babe followed by the sounds of a waking household's morning routine.  


Yes, these sounds of laughter & toddler babble are what fill my soul, but this sacred hour each morning are what cleanse it; washing away its tiredness, its odd dreams, its worry.  It is how I greet the rising sun with gratitude, thanking the world for this gift of a new day that's brimming with opportunity. 

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