Morning is finally soft again.
After days of blazing heat that left everything sticky and tense, today felt like a long exhale. The sky, once harsh with sunlight, now wore a veil of gentleness. The temperature had dropped, the light had dimmed, and for the first time in over a week, I could feel the breeze moving freely again.
It was such a blessing.
Just the other day, I had a casual conversation with my sister and cousin about how relentless the heat had been. We half-joked about how rain might disappear for the next five or six months. We weren't exactly complaining... but we were craving a little grace. So when I woke up around 3 a.m. and heard the sound of rain tapping gently on the roof, my heart smiled. It was as if Mother Earth had overheard our chat and decided to bless us with a surprise, like she slipped a note under the door that simply said, “I heard you.”
And the magic didn’t end there. When morning came, the air was still wrapped in that residue of calm, the kind that makes you slow down and take a deep breath without realizing it. It was the perfect morning to return to my little ritual: coffee in hand, a slice of pie I’d picked up yesterday sitting beside me, and my laptop open in front of me.
