In the eerie silence, a light shone through my window. Peeking through the slats of the blinds, I saw a bright, nearly full moon making its descent but still high in the sky. Wreathed in cloud and haze, the moon appeared almost as if it was floating in water. I looked at the clock and sighed. I'd gotten to bed late, at around midnight, and guessed that was it for me.
Coming back from the bathroom, I heard the first morning songs. A few minutes later it was a full chorus as more and more songbirds woke from slumber to greet the day. I lay in bed, listening. Tentatively rolling over and over, trying to decide if I would sleep again.
I got up, deciding that if sleep came it would likely be one of those restless morning sleeps, plagued with the bad dreams that wait just at the edge of consciousness for our vulnerable moments. So I decided just to get up and see what the day would bring, there at its edge. I have not been disappointed.
Throwing all the windows open, I'm greeted with cool air and more songs. Impressionistic skies color as the sun rises behind cloud. I've heard only one car door slam, one vehicle drive away for the driver's early morning business or commute to work. I sip a beautiful Chinese tea and cook up some new potatoes and pea greens from the farmer's market. Actually, the greens are raw and dressed with a bright, lemony vinaigrette. An odd, but lovely breakfast.
There are strawberries in the ceramic colander on the counter.
Before most people are up, I am writing. It's my favorite time of the day to write. I spend way too little time here, and this morning reminds me of something I love and want to show up more for. The sun has just broken through the clouds as I think about this and recedes as the thought passes.
The rest of the day will be busy, filled with Zoom meetings, pre-trip laundry and packing, tea in the mid-afternoon with a friend I haven't seen since before the pandemic. I'm done in time to make a nice dinner and enjoy it and settle in for an early bedtime. I have branzino thawing and fresh asparagus from the farmer's market. It's in season now, and local. Beautiful and delicious. My spellcheck does not like branzino and prefers that I have Bronzino thawing for dinner. I don't think so. Considering it's the sobriquet of a Renaissance painter, I think I'll stick with my fish.
A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.
Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and every year brings new wonder. She asks big questions of the small things in life.
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