A morning

All is quiet and still here, the rest of the house is sound asleep.

The first light is beginning to rise and the sky is a beautiful soft grey.  The air is cool and the doors are open airing the house before the day heats up. 

Bruce the rooster crows loudly.  Letting us know it is indeed morning.  Though he is somewhat over zealous in his task as he starts this routine at about 2am.  Strutting to his post, surveying his yard and crowing proudly, ensuring all is well before he undertakes his other morning tasks.


Bruce the rooster strutting his stuff.


Why does the rooster crow I wonder?  Is it to mark his territory?  Or is it because he simply finds it to be plain, good old fashioned fun?  The determined way in which Bruce goes about this all important task of crowing, makes me think though there may be a little of the first in there, there is also a whole lot of the second.

Inside the little old cottage it's just me and my keyboard tapping away to the sound of soft snoring (Aggie) and not so soft snoring. (Grant)  The kitchen benches have been cleared and wiped down, ready for the morning after a bit of a haphazard night.  It was en eggs on toast kind for dinner kind of night.

Today is shaping up to be a little easier.  The washing machine is whirring quietly, the sourdough has been fed and is bubbling away ready to be made into a fresh loaf.  I was hoping to make it this morning but the starter is not ready, and there is no use trying to rush sourdough.  It is a process, that keeps to its own ancient rhythm.  There is some old grain mix that I found pushed to the back of the cupboard which is now soaking with a good splash of apple cider vinegar for the chooks breakfast.  Waste not want not and all of that.

Over time, I have come to love and appreciate the quiet beauty of the mornings.  I used to be a night owl, very firmly through and through.  But oh so slowly things have shifted, and by slowly changing deeply ingrained habits my body clock has shifted also.  Not always mind you.  But mostly.  Don't let anyone one tell you that you are born either a morning or a night person.  If you want to become a morning person enough you will make it happen.

It has just turned 6am, and Grant has just gotten up ready for a long day of work during harvest, a sign the boys will soon stir.  I can hear Angus tossing and turning too, he is usually the first wake.

It was good to check in dear readers, and I hope as you are sitting reading this that your morning or day is going well.  Are you a night owl or a morning bird?

Much love,
Emma
xx




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