Every morning I get up with the sun and go outside to write, and I get to watch the sun rise as my words take shape on the page. Each sunrise is gorgeous – each unique, each stunning. And I can never get past the breathtaking light that filters through the brilliant-colored leaves; the golden light that transforms everything into something beautiful. It’s always so peaceful, then, early in the morning when no one’s around to disturb the silence of the dawn.
This is what my mornings have been, almost every day of this month. Beautiful, silent times to gaze at the sky as it turns from gray to pink to orange; times to weave my story in the magic of the first light.
And it’s perfect.