I love to write in the morning but it’s rare that I wake pre-dawn. Today’s prompt reminds me of a particular summer morning before or after ninth grade when I woke particularly early. While everyone else slept, I wrote in my journal.
I lay in bed in our old Victorian New Brunswick summer house along the Fundy coast.
I woke to the shifting colors of pre-dawn—dark purples and blues turning to fiery orange. Then the sun rose over Fundy Bay and Nova Scotia on the opposite shore.
I wrote three or four poems that morning, entering the ecstatic state that writing (or creativity) sometimes brings—a feeling of elation, in harmony with myself and the world….
Writing integrates me. It makes me feel whole and holy. The greatest gift I can give myself is time to write.
Do you have a special time to write?
Feel free to share a memory of writing at a special time of day when creativity flowed for you. How did it feel?