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.