Writing in the quiet of the morning is quite spectacular. I don’t try to decide which is more spectacular, the time of day or watching the words evolve on the page. Both are a gift.
Of late, I have spent too much time on the tech side of my computer. Migrating to a pen and paper to write the first draft of these thoughts is like a mini-vacation for the mind. A span of time, short or long, to engage the creative moments. Releasing them from within the grey matter located behind the wall of bone that forms my skull.
The sun shines across the corner of my journal, elevating the thoughts. They bubble with small plop, plop, plop until they burst with fun or serious or imaginative words from the brain’s cauldron repository. Finding their way into anecdotes, stories, poems, and collections of prose.
Will they be recorded for another time; or, words kept for only me to enjoy? It doesn’t matter, because mornings and writing are a spectacular mini vacation.