Summer mornings can be lovely times. Before the heat of the day withers plants and people alike, before the air fills with humidity, before thunderstorms send me scurrying inside, before all that are the mornings.
In the mornings of summer, the air feels warm and comforting, not cloying. In the mornings a breeze caresses and whispers before it dies under the afternoon sun. Deer tiptoe across the lane in front of Dog and me. The birds sing. Ah, if these early mornings would only last all day!