Winter Morning

A tree against the morning sky.

The mornings are grey in an Ohio winter. Even on days that turn blue in the afternoon, the morning seems to creep in slowly and turns the lights up gradually. It helps ease into the day for sure now that every day starts in the same way.

If there’s something to remember from this global ordeal for someone who was privileged enough to be a brain in a jar it is the monotony. Every day is so very similar. It numbs the mind from time to time and it creates a feeling of being weary. Not tired. Tired can be fixed by a good night’s sleep or a quick nap. This is weary. There is no physical rest that restores.

So we go to the parks. We breathe the cold air of early winter. We read and write. We consider things at depth. Or we simply watch and let go. Just for a moment.

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