Beam of light

The sun announces its arrival

Today I love the sun’s arrival on the scene of a new morning of hope and promise. I love how the light seems to be streaming toward the sky like a beam or a spot light or search light. I love the beautiful golden brilliance of the beginning of a day when everything might change for the better, or at least nothing might change for the worse. I love days when we can look ahead and hope with reasonable certainty for calm and peace, and I love when the day starts out looking auspicious and potentially ready for just such an occurrence. I love sunny mornings, though it’s true that I also love cloudy ones, but that’s just because I love mornings. I love mornings that start with just enough haze to make the sun look stunning and brilliant, and today certainly qualifies for that. I love mornings that wrap me in a perfect combination of contentment and quiet anticipation. I love mornings when I awake feeling like I’m where I belong and yet that I belong on adventures. I love that every day has become an adventure for me and it doesn’t need to have any new plans in its path to be considered an adventure. I love that I am at the perfect age, that a day of quiet solitude and reflection is as much an adventure as a day when I take off for distant destinations and look for new experiences.

Today I love taking chances on the spur of the moment and having those chances validated with responses from the universe that answer positively, even if the answer is no. I love a good paradox. I love that I’m using an old plastic travel mug today that makes my coffee taste rather sad, because this should remind me not to leave my good stainless steel coffee mug behind when I change home headquarters from the chalet to the house.

Today I love baked goodies, though I haven’t looked at the ones here on the Wednesday office cafĂ© counter yet and maybe shouldn’t, because they’re always so good. I love that now that I have started thinking about those goodies I may have to just give in and look and accept and try them again. I love that there was a popping noise and then a crunching noise and then a breaking noise in a small back corner of my mind and suddenly I had a new idea for the progression of my old novel and there may soon be no way for me to refrain from writing again and I love that I’m worried about the dishes and laundry and all my other work if I start writing like I was writing when that novel started.

Today I love questionably funky tasting coffee on the road in the light of the sun’s spot light arrival.