Musing on mornings
. . . and glorious and beautiful and – early. Truth be told, I love mornings, I just wish they came a little later in the day.
I love the air in the mornings, it’s different somehow, don’t you think? It seems fresher and crisper. Mornings sound different, they even smell different.
Morning Glory, it must be grand . . .
When the sun rises, the birds outside my window start to sing a sweet morning song to welcome each new day (every frickin day) as it begins, sometimes I want to shoot them. Shoo, them. I meant shoo them, like away. What kind of monster do you think I am? (a grouchy, tired one) Well yes, generally speaking, I kind of am. Just in the mornings, mind you. OK, sometimes during the afternoon as well. And maybe the evening, a little and only sometimes. Depends on how…
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