Early morning. Good sleep, but broken up. The sun is rising; a soft, orange glow lights the underside of dark skies – looks amazing. Thoughts are mixed, untidy, and jumbled. Coffee is bitter; mouth feels dry and in need of something cold and quenching. Head is aching, thumping, alive.
Muscles ache, in need of stretching. Pain. Pain of an aching shoulder that never seems to improve. Months now, a relentless annoyance where stretches and roll-on relaxant miss the spot. My brain stirs again, a sudden wave of thoughts, and then they ebb – calm again – back to the shoulder.
The air is chilled but not uncomfortable. The heating is off and I wonder how long we can go before Autumn days force the switch to be turned on? Those leaves would look stunning in this morning light – I love Autumn. I already have my Autumn hat ready to keep my head cosy, all wrapped up for those crisp walks with my dog and camera.
I take a long, satisfying draw from my vape and blow wisps of vapour from my mouth into the glow of morning light filtering through the blinds. It hangs briefly in the air, a light mist, and then dissipates below a shard of light. It makes me think of the river not far from where I live, and I imagine grey veils hanging just above the surface of the water on mornings just like this. I should get my camera and take a walk.
Another deep draw of vapour, maybe two, and the comforts of another hot coffee make me stay at home. Regrets of missed opportunity are fleeting; there is always another day.
The coffee is not so strong second time around. It feels smoother in the mouth, not as harsh or biting as the first – satisfying. A sip, and thoughts of what lies ahead. A busy day: family and birthday lunches, and travels to plan for. Dogs to walk, washing up that lies untouched to clean before all else, although a few moments more won’t hurt the rhythm of my morning thoughts. A busy day ahead indeed, no time to sit and ruminate, although I am sure I shall find time; I always do.
To finish, well, thoughts that are not so good. They linger, looking for a way to spoil or upset the gentleness of my early morning. I close an inner door and lock it tight. They’ll find another way in, I’m sure, but not today – not today.