i've expressed this before: i absolutely love mornings. i adore the rest that takes place in the night and the promise of a fresh start. i enjoy the crispness and the utter calm of early morning. undisturbed. untouched. so pure you almost don't want to touch it - like fresh fallen snow. but it does get touched and sometimes marred. and still, the morning always comes again as promised - as if nothing has happened the day before. and in that there is newness.