I managed to slip out of bed alone this morning, a trick I can seldom pull off. I don’t mind the company of a certain someone during these fresh, new hours, but I’ll confess that alone is still my favorite way to savor them.

The temperature has been rising, and the morning air, while a bit cool, is refreshing. I cracked open the window next to the kitchen table, then stepped outside to breathe in a new day.

I wish these hours could last forever.

I was met by fuschia buds on my sweetpea — the sweetpea I’ve been drowning in water every day, hoping against hope that I could coax a flower from it before it gives in to the shriveling heat of mid-summer. Small pleasures, but pleasure, nonetheless.

A cry and the patter of feet brought me back inside, but not before I grabbed a moment to take a deep breath and offer thanks for this: the gift of a new day.