One morning, three weeks ago, we left the house early, to go see the mountain. Mauna Kea is a dormant volcano on the island of Hawaii. At 13,803 feet above sea level, it is the highest point in the state. It has its own weather. Though it would be visible from almost any location on the island, it is shrouded in clouds for most of every day. You have to get up early to see it. That was an outstanding morning!
Though that one stood out, most mornings in Hawaii were special. Warm enough, always, to carry my coffee outside, I’d sometimes listen to the gentle rain from the protection of the covered porch. Though it rained almost every day, the showers never lasted long, and the sun could always be counted on. I’d scatter bird seed for the chickens, then write, and draw, and do my yoga routine. One or both of my daughters would join me there, and we’d read, or chat about the day ahead.
Vacations, especially in new and exotic places, make everything, including wake-up rituals, seem exceptional. But mornings here, in my little house on Beaver Island, are pleasant, too. These last few days, since I’m temporarily off work and readjusting to the six-hour time difference from Hawaii to Michigan, I wake up naturally. No alarm clock.
I keep my morning habits of journal-writing, drawing and yoga as I let the dogs outside and back in. By the time I pour my first cup of coffee, I’m ready to check the news. Later, I’ll take my first walk of the day. No rush, though. I like to take my mornings slowly. All the more delightful that way!