i think mornings are beautiful things: light slowly falling and toppling and finding its way millions of miles through to every inch and corner, birds chirping, the green of the willow trees and how if you look up just at the right angle, you see bits of blue sky through the long restless willow leaves. the soft wind on your cheek, the way that the morning breeze is fresh and cold and plays with yesterday’s leaves, twirling them. the way dew drops roll off a leaf, slowly then all at once. 


‘walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet’


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