At this time of year, when I wake, the sun is only just rising and the sky is soft cerulean blue. It is the prettiest of sky colours and this morning there was naught to disturb it, but for one narrow high swath of a single planes contrail flaring brilliant scarlet across the sky.
I watched it till the pink scattered and the cerulean was softened and mellowed.
I think I am going to put on my cozy morning sweater and take my mug of coffee and go sit on the front porch swing for a while. Its the perfect morning to soak in the magic of it all, isn't it?