it was morning time. i plucked my pearl earrings out of their hiding place, slid them into my ears and pulled on a dress. i creaked open front door it swung behind me. everything outside was nested in shards of light and tangled with wild-flowers i ran, weaving myself like a ribbon endlessly twirling through the pale-golden morning sunlight. trees of brilliant hues dotted the countryside -- auburns and mahoganies, deep browns, reds and yellows adorned branches; streams slipped, emerged and penetrated through and under foliage while the sun quivered and slanted across the earth. i reached my destination. i pulled a strand a hair behind my ear and slid in-between two trees (my favourite spot) and slipped my journal out of my bag; i clasped it for a moment or two before i started writing and breathed the dew and sunshine and flushed air and sun. (a small piece of my writings inspired by morning-time.)
morning time is my favourite time; is it yours, too?