hemingway was right

 the blueberry bush produced this week!

i like to ease into my mornings.

there is a sweet envelope of time between waking and starting the day. when i'm still in that hazy half-dream state and the dew on the grass outside is magical. when the sunshine falls in slivers between the pin oaks and the earth is still cool with damp darkness.

it is this nugget--this sacred, special gap between sleep and energy that i love most of any waking hour. i think primarily because of the promise it holds. i like to hop up on my kitchen counter in my pajamas and eat my fruit, looking out onto the long, empty country road. in less than an hour, i will be in an office chair. i will divide my glance between two computer monitors. i will meet deadlines, edit copy, and call salesmen.

but at 6:30 in the morning, i am just me. a 24-year-old awake. with a husband and pup sleeping in the next room. with my hands wrapped around a hot mug of coffee and a little bowl of blueberries resting in my lap. and it is good. i declare, it is completely good.

and the day might not live up to its promise. days just don't sometimes. but that moment of magical believing is worth getting up early for. the sun might set today without anything spectacular happening. it might just be a ho-hum repetition of spreadsheets and reports broken up by coffee breaks. i might go to bed without any true accomplishment. yes, the sun will set on this day.

but the sun also rises.