Morning Fresh

Writing first thing in the morning.

Early morning writing is definitely good for me.  In the summer months it is easy for me to pull myself out of bed, make a cup of tea and settle down, still in my PJs, on the top step of the sleeper wall in my garden, surrounded by the raucous morning chorus of the local birds hunting for food, the fresh breeze that has the ability to lift any mood, and the lush grass, shrubs, flowers and cherry sapling already host to miniature swarms of flying insects, bees, butterflies, bumblebees and the occasional spider.  Winter months and rainy days aren't too bad either because I get to snuggle into my favourite chair at the window with my cup of tea, pull my legs up and tuck my feet under me to keep warm and lose myself in my writing.

 

Morning in the garden

If I’m busy writing a story then I pick up the thread, imagining my way through one or another conundrum that my characters have put me in, yet again and morning writing stints have a habit of producing the best outcomes and sparks of fresh ideas and before long my mind is in another dimension, wrapped up in my story. 

It is a good time for letter writing too, especially the difficult kinds of ones when something has unravelled in the fabric of life, an argument with my mother or a disagreement with a friend or sibling and I've gone to bed replaying the scene over and over and spent the night fretting and fuming over how I’m going to have this out on paper (you know how face-to-face confrontations have a habit of screwing your words up and sentences go awry as they leave the safety of your mouth).  I find that these morning sessions have the ability to smooth out the sharp ends and dampen down the flames and very often the resulting letter takes on a completely different angle, often leaving me feeling like not only have I learnt something about my own feelings but also how to deal with the person who has upset me in a way that often calms the situation.  Sometimes I find that the writing itself mends the rift and quite often the letter never reaches its intended audience, thankfully.

Moments spent in thought in between bouts of writing allow me to look around, admire the garden, take notice of the neighbourhood, appreciate my surroundings and feel grateful for the space I have.  Best of all, for me, is when the allotted time has passed and I’m off to work or facing the tasks of the day and I feel as though I've accomplished something important.  So what if it’s just a few pages in a notebook or a wordy letter, but it is a problem I've dealt with or a piece of a chapter I've completed or a bit of story-line that’s suddenly gone off at yet another angle, enough to keep my thoughts and imagination busy for the rest of the day until I can sit back and pick up my pen and notebook and lose myself in my imagination once more.