On a weekend morning I love to just sit outside, and smell the wet grass with a huge cup of coffee in front of me. Lately, the mornings have been so cold that the steam wafts off my coffee in curly wisps disappearing seamlessly in the brisk air. I sit pensive at the black wrought iron table missing the summer cushions but still grateful for winter. My fingers grasp the sides of the cup eagerly, and I think of nothing or sometimes just a few things. . .
Some of my best thinking happens on those mornings.
I love your rich description here! I felt like I was with you, outside, enjoying that cup of coffee.
ReplyDeleteI love the quiet in the morning with coffee and my thoughts. Your front porch sounds lovely.
ReplyDeleteOh, how wonderfully you have captured the peaceful morning moment.
ReplyDeleteWhat a pleasant rendezvous you've stirred in this riveting post - between the environment and that evocative cup of coffee. I felt the excitement building in my heart as I imagined the wisps of steam of wrought iron of which you so affectionately spoke.
ReplyDeleteThe lyricism of your writing compels the reader to connect and consider personal points of reference. I found myself coveting your experience - desirous of a moment to just sit and breathe.
Thank you so much for sharing. It is a poignant reminder that sometimes the best moments of all are laden with the simplest treasures.
Weekend mornings, indeed!
#lovedthis
~Carla Michelle