Angels in the early morning may be seen the
Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying.
Do the buds to them belong?
~ Emily Dickinson
I woke up… slowly made my way to the kitchen and then I looked out the window. There was a beautiful shroud of fog ~ wow ~ another magical morning. I was no longer tired, I grabbed my mud boots, put on my bathrobe and practically skipped into the backyard. I spent an hour and a half wandering around finding the most magical dew drops. I did not care that I was sitting on the wet ground in my pajamas. I did not care that I had a hundred other things that needed to get done. I got lost behind my camera.
I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.