I love mornings. Early mornings. I am not one of those who jums out of bed dancing a morning song of happiness. No, I am not. But as soon as I am out of bed I wrap myself in the quilt of the new day, let my fingers run along its texture, let my eyes rest in its colours.
Mornings, like opening an old cupboard. You believe you know what to find inside, you also know that there are always surprises.
A new colour, a new line is sewn, is the thread strong enough to hold?
Sunday morning. Guests and family are still sleeping. I have been out to feed the squirrel and to admire the new roses which have unfold during the light summer night, I have picked herbs for my morning tea. A day with its promises lies ahead.
.....and I have a "new" Freya Stark book to read, Traveller's Prelude.......
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Photos: a cabinet in Dagmar's Austrian Farm. The farm where I go for writing.
