This has become sacred time for me: the air is cool, the house is quiet, and sometimes, there are gifts in store:
The view off my porch at 5:30 a.m...8 minutes later, the colours had faded.
It occurs to me that in staying up late, I have missed the gift of early mornings. It has become a time to reflect, to start the day (and the coffeepot) in peace, and to collect flowers for our table.
I love rhythm and ritual, but have all too often found myself swept up in the chaos of raising small children. My spirit knew I needed this now, and started whispering to me to get up and breathe in the quiet air of early morning.
For this, I am truly grateful.
For what sacred time alone do you give thanks?