Stories

My Misty Mornings


Some people call me crazy for getting up at 5:00am in the morning.

Every morning.

“It’s the weekend, what are you doing up?”
“You only need to be in at work by 9…!”

But the fact is, they don’t see what I see.

While everyone is sound asleep, in their warm beds, far away in the land of dreams, I get up. Put on my shoes. And walk away.

“Do you get up to go jogging? Go for a run?”

They always seem surprised by my reply. “No.” I say. “I sit on the top of the hill and watch the morning mist tumble down around me.”

Slowly. Silently. Softly.

By 6:00am it has reached the bottom of the hill, all that mist piling up to create a white blanket. I often wonder what it would be like to sit on that smooth surface, and lie there for a while. Everything at peace…

It is a chance for me to be greedy and not feel bad about it. It’s the time of day I look forward to. The sunrise is the opening act,  followed by this great performance. And it’s all mine.

Not many people understand my methods. But then again, they haven’t experienced these winter mornings. My misty mornings.

-The Storyteller

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