We're hurrying and scurrying, making our spaces and days count. Then all at once we reach that point in the day where a moment of solace is gathered, we realise there is warm sunshine beckoning us to bask and so we do. Some briefly, some not so briefly as our neighbours remind us that it's five o'clock somewhere and the clinking of ice cubes can be heard ;)
Oh it was a good night last night! Such fabulous nocturnal times sometimes make for slightly heavier heads the next day. Stunning beauty is no less, just feeling the weight of the day a little more than usual - maybe the memories of such fabulousness linger too!
It's a day for pootling about. One of those unhurried days where things get done, but they don't have a list to be ticked off against. Time flows and there is space for stretching, sunning and generally making the most of one's abode. Not a type of day that we're advised to have in these goal-centred times, but one where we start to feel like ourselves, where true beauty is given the chance to chime in its own rhythm.
Finding herself wistfully wondering aloud and then catching her words as if hearing them second-hand. Did she really disclose her most heartfelt of yearnings to those around? Did they even notice? Or did those vocal dreams float up into the air and carry themselves up and way, melding with other airborne musings to create a poetry all of their own?
