misty, foggy morning

[winterbadger]

There's a thick fog over the area this morning. I'm loving the view out my window. In a minute I'm going back to bed to lie there with a book and my cats and maybe a mug of something and relax, maybe go back to sleep for a while. It's beautiful.

This is the sort of morning I never want to leave here. I love this house, and I love the friends I share it with. I have to remind myself that this *is* all going to change, whether I want it to or not. That I have to be active in shaping the change or just continue to accept what Fate decrees without complaint.

It's hard--sometimes I just want nothing to change. It seems to me wonderful as it is. But it doesn't seem so to everyone, and the only way things could not change would be a course of events that would make people I care about deeply unhappy.

And, so, things are bound to change, just as this beautiful foggy morning is bound to change into something else. And I can only hope and trust that it will change into something equally wonderful, just different.

And it's going to be a day
There is really no way to say no to the morning
Yes it's going to be a day
There is really nothing left to say but come on morning.

Comments

[redactrice.livejournal.com]

Wow, I know exactly how you feel. (And it did look magical out in the woods this morning.)

That song -- to which I did a dance performance at camp -- was the reason I bought my very first record album, at age 11.