three things.

Wednesday, March 2

[one.] the light is lingering longer this week: shining through the slits in the blinds and the bookcases, slipping around the flowers on the windowsill, making patterns on the walls.

[two.] just over a year and a half at university, and I now find it near-impossible to read a book without a pencil in my hand.

[three.] I have the words of this (my Mum's favourite) poem  inside my head today:

Why I Wake Early
by Mary Oliver.

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety—

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light—
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

(Picture from: here.)

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