~.~

I adore mornings. There's a strange charm that surrounds those wee hours when the world yawns to a new dawn.

I can hear birds outside as indoors my wife prepares breakfast. Early sunlight tickles my skin. My French press steams and whizzes – I smell the revitalizing aroma. Freshly baked croissants make their presence known with a subtle savour that wafts in our home; I'm sure there are butters and jellies as accompaniments.

Mornings have become a newfound experience of scintillating delight in my visionless world, and it's alright.

My entire being senses more now than I ever saw with my eyes.

~.~