As a photographer, I’m slightly obsessed with light. There’s a term called the “golden hour,” which is the hour or so in the morning just after sunrise and in the evening just before sunset, when the sunlight falls juuuuuust right for magical pictures.

It also happens to be a wonderful, gentle time to just use your eyeballs and soak in the magic of the present moment. Look around. Describe what you see (either in your head or write it down). It’s a sweet little practice in mindfulness and gratitude.

Notice the sounds, the textures, the smells. The tiny little things that strike you as lovely…

I’ll go first.

An ode to the morning golden hour:

I sit here in the morning.

At my little table.

Facing East.

Where the sun makes her daily entrance.

You can the see the shimmer on the horizon first. A sort of matte glow most days.

The birds feel it too, and start a call and response chant to bring forth the day.

As I sit here and write, the sun herself peeks over the horizon and dumps a bucket of golden light through the window. 

It drenches my face, the floor, the curtains.

The light filters through the fresh flowers & the tiny mint plant in front of me. 

The smell of coffee provides the backdrop, and the beams of golden sun bring the steam from my mug into sharp relief. Tiny little tendrils of delicious swirls.

I hear the light little footsteps that mean my oldest baby is awake and tentatively making his way down the hallway, hoping I’m awake to greet him.

I meet him halfway and pick him up into a hug, then accompany him to the couch where we sit in silence for a minute; in a sort of half-hug.

“I love you, sweet boy,” I tell him. 

This is the hour before responsibility starts. The hour of stillness, golden light and sweet hugs.