I am growing fond of the quiet, rustic nature that has become my morning. In solitude, I sit near a table made of old, weathered barn wood. My paperweight is a rusty railroad tie. The familiar scent of coffee seeps from a favorite mug near a classic book revisited, together with the nearby sound of water cascading from a fountain – the ritual consumes me. And, so it is. I now feel I can take on this day. -Tonia
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