Ahh, Sunday Morning.
Is there anything better than the pace of a Sunday morning?
On Sunday, the coffee is pressed, not brewed. Breakfast is leisurely, not rushed, and more often than not more adventurous than its weekday counterparts.
I have been an early riser my whole life. My favorite time of day is early, before anyone else is awake. I love to go outside with my coffee and watch the sun rise as it peeks over the bay. No rushing to work or school, no cars on the street, just me, the sun, the coffee and the birds. The birds are never so loud as on Sunday morning. The chirps and twitters and calls no longer have to compete with delivery truck exhaust pipes or lawn equipment. This is their movement, and they perform like virtuosos for about 45 minutes. Then, as the rest of the orchestra wakes up and joins in, they are content to take the backseat again, still there, just removed to accompaniment roles until next Sunday morning.
Alas, today I over slept, missed my Sunday morning symphony, and have to go into the office for a few hours.
Well, I can look forward to next Sunday all week.
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