I sat on my chair. Located in the dining room, it was surrounded by three walls, the fourth side opening the entrance to the kitchen. The white walls covered with numerous windows shone the sun's bright glow and the color of the blue sky. Birds chirped and the bright green trees swooshed their branches as the breezy wind went by. The clouds soft and fluffy as if it were cotton candy, floated lazily in the warm summer air. Bugs buzzed loudly rousing people who were in deep sleep. My neighbors were awake, outside and having a conversation. Their words fused with the rustle of the trees, chirping of the birds, buzzes of the bugs, and the hum of cars starting. This is my sound of morning.
I sat in my dark brown smooth chair with a soft ivory cushion designed with colored triangles. In front of me stood a white polished marble kitchen table with matching dark brown legs. My legs dangle, too short to touch the ground. In my hands is a glass of lemon iced tea. The ice chinked as I drank from the straw. I took in the sounds and the views and the moment as I did every morning. I smiled. I knew these kinds of mornings were the best kinds of mornings. I finished my tea and the ice lay in the glass melting slowly. I leaned my back on the chair and gazed at the window in front of me. Ahh, the peaceful mornings fill me up with such bliss.
