The beginning is always today.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
The sweetness of the pre-dawn morning gently ushers in the day and the week. It’s quiet, but for the regular breathing of Gerry next to me, Maya snoring softly at the end of the bed, and the distant sound of road noise through the open window.
Through the west-facing window I see a pink tinge on the mountain top where the sun will soon rise. A few clouds make for an interesting pattern in the lighening sky.
My mind turns to the day to come. We have an appointment in town, a lunch date afterward, a stop the community garden to water, then home. I want to get the little pottager garden in the back yard planted and then, perhaps, I’ll take some writing time.
A simple day. A gentle day.
And it is well.