Sunday Mornings

It is 5.57 am and my eyes open. It happens on more days than not. I open my eyes just minutes before my scheduled alarm. I suddenly feel the cold wind coming in from the window as I get out of my comforter. I sit upright on the edge of my bed. Should I sleep for 10 more minutes?

The cold breeze interrupts that thought and I rub my hands together to acknowledge the goosebumps I get because of the cold. I finish my chores and take my water jug and a glass to the balcony. I sit down and pour myself a glass of water as the morning treats me with a pleasant smell. It feels weird to say that mornings have a pleasant smell, but they do.


As I sip water watching the sun rise, my mind wanders off to thoughts that would never occur to me any other time of the day. I sit there in my balcony, looking at the sunrise, hearing the birds’ new song, doing absolutely nothing. Nature has organised a grand show with the sun and the wind and the dew drops and the chirping birds. I have to just lie there in its lap and enjoy the show.

This is the best time of the day for me to simply ‘be’.

A couple hours of extra sleep is definitely a great feeling, but can it compete with this? I think not.

One thought on “Sunday Mornings

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