August 19, 2025
Morning Reflections
Fog and Flight
This morning arrived wrapped in fog—quiet, gentle, and full of stillness. The pier felt different without the pigeons. I missed them. Their joyful energy always adds something special, and it’s not quite the same when they’re not there. Adonis circled overhead, scanning the shoreline with his usual focus. Surfers waited patiently, boards bobbing in rhythm with the tide, eyes on the horizon.
And the pelicans—lined up like stealth bombers—glided low across the water, silent and powerful. There’s something sacred about mornings like this. Even without all the usual characters, the peace remains. The rhythm continues. And I’m reminded again why I love my mornings. They ground me. They greet me. They give me space to breathe and be grateful.
Morning Gratitude Thought
Even when the rhythm shifts, the peace remains. Gratitude lives in the fog, in the flight, in the quiet waiting. Some mornings whisper instead of sing—and I’m thankful for both.
