Good morning milkmaid braid

Today, I write from a corner in the house where instruments wait to make music and books of pressed flowers wait to be gazed upon. I look around to see an autoharp surrounded by random papers of white and a coffee cup filling the air with good morning tidings. It's almost as if the world is saying "No matter how bad the day gets, you had your morning air and it was beautiful."

I need my mornings to be like this: Quiet like the falling of snow on a hillside, slow like maple syrup dripping onto a stack of pancakes, and gentle like the hour after you were born when your mother holds onto you and believes she is holding the world. As the day goes on, I prefer to have my moments sparked like the beginning of love. I want to listen to music that compels me to cry or stomp. I want to read stories that give rise to that feeling of wonder. I want to run, speak, and dine on the fruits of adventure as if the day will never come to an end. I want to feel like I am doing something lively and important with these daylight hours, even if I'm only naked and dancing at home while my favorite record sings through the floorboards. Never underestimate the beauty of naked you, dancing to a song you love.

As soon as the moon climbs over the hills, I return to my longing for a quiet, slow, and gentle life. I put on my comfiest sweater and wool socks. I wash my face with warm water. I look around to see the autoharp has only moved an inch and the coffee in the cup has left with morning. If I was out, I am home again. If I was home, I see it all differently now. It's almost as if the world is saying "No matter how bad the day was, you have your evening light and it will be beautiful."

 outfit details: Cult of Hope skirt, Blung key necklace

 What is your favorite time of day? How do you spend your mornings differently than you spend the other hours?