Morning Writer Envy

Morning writer envy #write31days

There's a mist on the field as the sun rises beyond it. Darkness shucks away, slinking into trees dotting the south ridge of the east pasture as gold spills across the backs of the horses. Inside, the coffee drip-drip-drips and its heady smell pervades the house, owning every corner, creeping into senses and calling them to rise to a new day.

As flaxen light reaches the edge of the garden, coffee is poured and savoured by the window while birds begin their morning call and squirrels start to chatter.

The fog lifts slowly as the sun continues its rise and despite the autumn chill there's a warmth floating on the air - as if the world isn't quite yet ready to say goodbye to summer though even as it's sensed, leaves the colour of fire float down lazily to land on the deck floor. 

It's all perfect. It's magic. It's Instagram-able.

And where am I?

I'm tucked all nice and neat beneath my duvet, sound asleep while the world bubbles up with beauty.

I tip my hat to you, Oh Morning Writer, you who rise to face the dawn, to spill your heart out before the house begins to stir; you who know the peace of stillness and can hear the voice of your story because all the other distractions are still dreaming...

Morning Writer, I see what you do, I follow your social media life. I've seen the #morningpages tweets and the pretty light across your keyboard in your happily shared photographs.

Morning Writer, you make me a Mourning Writer. 

Oh woe is me and my night owl proclivities...

I do appreciate the night - how the children's bedtime leaves me hours in which my keyboard can be tap-tap-tapping - the phases of the moon, the beauty of the stars, the ghost on our staircase, hot mugs of tea and sinful bedtime snacks...

But oh, to feel the morning sun on my face - fresh birthed from a horizon that cradled it close - to sit in its embrace and spill my words onto clean pages...what could possibly be better...?

Sleep.

Sleep could be better.

Or {more likely} sleep is a pitiful excuse, blubbered out by one much too accustomed to late night Netflix marathons. {Come back tomorrow to hear more about that!}

But no matter how often I find myself yearning for the quiet morning moments I still can't pull myself from five more minutes beneath my warm blankets...and perhaps someday, I'll finally be okay with that...

I am a night writer! 

Hey - at least I'm writing.

http://selfbindingretrospect.alannarusnak.com/2015/09/challenge-accepted-write-31-days.html {click the image above to see all the #write31days posts}

6 comments:

  1. Stopping in from Write 31 Days to say - in a perfect world I'd write every morning. But I'm with you on the tempting duvet cover, and more often than not, I'm writing from a spare office minute here and there. No magical mist or inspiring sunrise. Good luck on your writing challenge!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad I'm not the only one who can't seem to crawl out from that warmth ;)

      Delete
  2. As a farmer, I should totally be on board with the "early to rise" mantra.

    I am not!

    Morning person required.

    I'm out!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Early mornings out of bed are really not nearly as nice as lying snug in bed...unless the quiet house all to yourself is motivating enough to crawl out. Alas, it's not always tempting enough.

    However, you cannot forget that the midnight writer plugging away until the wee hours because they MUST get the words out is a writing style filled with all its own nuances of romance.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh...I love that...yes, I'm going to own my romantic midnight writing habits. Thank you!

      Delete

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Morning Writer Envy

Morning writer envy #write31days

There's a mist on the field as the sun rises beyond it. Darkness shucks away, slinking into trees dotting the south ridge of the east pasture as gold spills across the backs of the horses. Inside, the coffee drip-drip-drips and its heady smell pervades the house, owning every corner, creeping into senses and calling them to rise to a new day.

As flaxen light reaches the edge of the garden, coffee is poured and savoured by the window while birds begin their morning call and squirrels start to chatter.

The fog lifts slowly as the sun continues its rise and despite the autumn chill there's a warmth floating on the air - as if the world isn't quite yet ready to say goodbye to summer though even as it's sensed, leaves the colour of fire float down lazily to land on the deck floor. 

It's all perfect. It's magic. It's Instagram-able.

And where am I?

I'm tucked all nice and neat beneath my duvet, sound asleep while the world bubbles up with beauty.

I tip my hat to you, Oh Morning Writer, you who rise to face the dawn, to spill your heart out before the house begins to stir; you who know the peace of stillness and can hear the voice of your story because all the other distractions are still dreaming...

Morning Writer, I see what you do, I follow your social media life. I've seen the #morningpages tweets and the pretty light across your keyboard in your happily shared photographs.

Morning Writer, you make me a Mourning Writer. 

Oh woe is me and my night owl proclivities...

I do appreciate the night - how the children's bedtime leaves me hours in which my keyboard can be tap-tap-tapping - the phases of the moon, the beauty of the stars, the ghost on our staircase, hot mugs of tea and sinful bedtime snacks...

But oh, to feel the morning sun on my face - fresh birthed from a horizon that cradled it close - to sit in its embrace and spill my words onto clean pages...what could possibly be better...?

Sleep.

Sleep could be better.

Or {more likely} sleep is a pitiful excuse, blubbered out by one much too accustomed to late night Netflix marathons. {Come back tomorrow to hear more about that!}

But no matter how often I find myself yearning for the quiet morning moments I still can't pull myself from five more minutes beneath my warm blankets...and perhaps someday, I'll finally be okay with that...

I am a night writer! 

Hey - at least I'm writing.

http://selfbindingretrospect.alannarusnak.com/2015/09/challenge-accepted-write-31-days.html {click the image above to see all the #write31days posts}

6 comments :

  1. Stopping in from Write 31 Days to say - in a perfect world I'd write every morning. But I'm with you on the tempting duvet cover, and more often than not, I'm writing from a spare office minute here and there. No magical mist or inspiring sunrise. Good luck on your writing challenge!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glad I'm not the only one who can't seem to crawl out from that warmth ;)

      Delete
  2. As a farmer, I should totally be on board with the "early to rise" mantra.

    I am not!

    Morning person required.

    I'm out!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Early mornings out of bed are really not nearly as nice as lying snug in bed...unless the quiet house all to yourself is motivating enough to crawl out. Alas, it's not always tempting enough.

    However, you cannot forget that the midnight writer plugging away until the wee hours because they MUST get the words out is a writing style filled with all its own nuances of romance.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh...I love that...yes, I'm going to own my romantic midnight writing habits. Thank you!

      Delete

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

Powered by Blogger.