A summer morning is all your own.
A light heat mists in the air, gently hazing everyone’s goings-on to be that much more personal, lost in our own pathways if but for a few hours.
Where even obligation can’t weigh against your first acts of the day, as the sun’s rise marks time’s fall, new hours and minutes invented and counted toward the deadlines, the need-by’s, as borrowed time blows back the stuffiness of schedules.
In a beat it’s now midday, and the rest of them have stirred and sloshed through the serene waters of your morning.
While summer nights borrow some of the calm from their elder siblings, the fact that they’re shared more widely with the awakened world gives them a luster that the burnished morning looks on with some wist.