Letters to Myself: Entry Six
Prompt: What would my perfect slow morning look like?
The slow mornings are different for everyone. Myself, I really enjoy Minnesota weather especially in the fall. Where the weather to be quite frank, is perfect. At least in my eyes.
Answer to the prompt:
Mornings have always been my favorite time to be awake, especially in the fall. There’s something magical about waking up after the temperature drops overnight, the air crisp, the grass sprinkled with dew, and a gentle stillness broken only by birdsong or the call of loons across the water.
It feels tender, almost rare. Minnesota weather is unpredictable, which makes mornings like this all the more special. When they arrive, you can’t help but soak them in. The cool air, the warmth of just-right layers, and that unmistakable scent of fog and dew.
In this kind of morning, I’d wake up feeling refreshed and grounded. I’d brew a fresh pot of coffee, pour in my trusty sugar-free creamer (because yes, I’m a little nuts about being healthy), and step onto a wooden porch overlooking a quiet lake. Squirrels scurry through the trees, rabbits dart across the grass, and a thin mist rises off the water like steam.
Breakfast would be simple but perfect: two over-medium eggs, toast, and maple turkey sausage. I’d sip coffee while writing, letting the morning stretch out slow and unhurried. When the plate is cleared and the cup empty, I’d crack open a book and settle back on the porch, the fire crackling nearby, sometimes even better than the coffee itself.
Some people swear by hot summer mornings or snowy winter ones with cocoa in hand. Me? Nothing beats a crisp fall morning in the wilderness, where time slows down and everything feels just right.
This post is part of my "Letters to Myself" series — a weekly free-write blog where I explore personal growth, curiosity, and healing through simple prompts. Sometimes reflective, sometimes fun, but always real. Thank you for being here.
References:
Photo by Kyle Gare
