
I’m in love with colorful morning sunrises. Isn’t it just perfection the way a sunrise colors the land? The dark giving way to a deepening, drenched and delightful crayola horizon. Set on go, the peach and firey fuchsia showing up together, never disappoint.
Burning and stretching its way across the east. A front row magical sense of morning, this sacred theatre. Shades morphing as the minutes chase across the stage. My morning schedule halted and once again, I am rescued by unexpected beauty.
Glowing, dancing aliveness showers surfaces on purpose, with purpose. My home vibrating and the inanimate coming to life. Colors bursting from darkness, quenching my whiney morning soul.
I take it in. I hold it close. Essence captured in small sips to save and use tomorrow should the clouds roll. A timeless trademark of magics’ promise. Filling my body with hope and beauty I stare into its sky eyes. Glowing, growing, gone! I’m in love with colorful sunrises.












We all matter far more than we typically have a clue about. Love is what is real.
Hearts.
To remind us that we honor our own hearts by taking good care of ourselves.
I close this day today giving a voice to those nasty little gnat thoughts, buzzing around crazily, irritatingly, making me want to hide under cover.
“She was raised to be hard on herself.
I observed a 3 year old girl yesterday, being 3. At the beach with her grandparents. It was time to leave and her older sister noticed the beach showers. 