I am a morning person, through and through. Though the actual act of waking up early may be difficult at times, I never regret it. Lazily waking up and making my way to the bathroom, my hair still matted from sleep, my eyes fighting the dim light. I splash my face with tepid water and scrub with my favorite cleanser, waking up my skin and readying myself for the day. I sip lemon water as I read through a couple blogs before pulling on my favorite leggings.
The cool morning air, the dew on the grass as I pad through it in my Vibrams, cutting through my back patio on my way for a dawn jog or long walk. Coming back home I set the tea kettle on and preheat the oven as I dig around my kitchen for breakfast. I take out one of my collected vintage pyrex bowls and stir together some oats, chopped nuts and seeds, honey, coconut oil, and a bit of vanilla. The tea kettle whistles just in time and I pour boiling water into my big flowered mug, over loose deep green tea leaves flecked with bits of peppermint in my linen teabag. I grab a pan from beneath the oven and spread the oat mixture on top, placing it in the oven and taking my tea mug with me to my computer.
I sip as I wait for my granola to bake, a cool breeze of air on my back coming through my patio screen, and I write. This is my most treasured time to write, when the air is perfect, the tea is hot and the smell of a comforting baked good wafts the air. This silent time, before anyone else is awake and even the cats lay curled in their chosen spots, is why I wake up so early. Afternoons just do not compare.