A spring themed piece, observing people.
Just a reflection, of sorts, on that practice of silent minutes after some terrible event.
As we find inspiration in the strangest of places, this one might be the strangest (or not) yet.
There is something that can be said about rising early.
Mind you, I have never been one who willingly drags herself out of bed in the wee hours of the morning, especially in the darker and colder winter months when the sun had barely managed to rise into the sky herself before I had to leave the warmth of my home to begin my long trek to work. Yet, in these six or so months when I have been away from work and for the most part away from any other obligation that make it necessary for me to be an early riser I have come to view those hours of the day we can still refer to as “morning” in a slightly different light.