Morning Fog

I love the morning. Waking up when it’s still dark, letting my body stretch to the first rays of sun. I imagine myself stepping out to the sunrise somewhere warm. Looking out at the waves quietly licking the shore. Smelling the salt air.

Early mornings always put me in a good mood. Maybe that’s the definition of a morning person. I love 7am flights that require waking up before the rest of society. Feeling the energy of people traveling somewhere. Maybe I should be a flight attendant.

This morning I drove from Arlington to Leesburg, from dark to light. I love watching the darkness disappear, the bright pink clouds that accompany a morning sunrise. Seeing all the cars heading into the city. Recognizing all the souls that are heading somewhere important.

I am feeling good this morning. I am a little foggy, but I like it. Calm nostalgia is my favorite blanket. I fall in love with my mind when it isn’t twirling anxious circles. The quiet fog is a nice touch to a morning sunrise while driving against traffic.

I have nowhere important to be. I toggle between heading home to sleep some more, or heading to a coffee shop. I choose King Street Coffee. I have a quiet itch to write. The past couple times I’ve tried, ugly words have appeared on the screen. I don’t like to publish my raw meanderings of the depressed mind.

Yesterday was one of those days. The darkness slipped in while I wasn’t looking. Perhaps I drank it down in my morning coffee. I hysterically bawled. I let every insecurity pour out and overwhelm my body. I couldn’t hold back the uneasiness I’ve been hiding. I felt like I didn’t have a purpose. Like I’m lost on a journey without any clue where to head to next.

But isn’t that why he put eternity into our hearts? So that we cannot know what is in store for us?

I ended my night with skittering through the streets of Washington, D.C. on an electric skateboard. It was almost freezing temperatures, but I don’t remember being cold. Bundled up like I was snowboarding, I rode the pavement. Gliding up hills, flowing down. Cold is numbing. Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved winter.

Tomorrow I have a 7am flight to Denver. I booked an impromptu trip. I tend to do that. I am excited for the emotions I know I will feel. The feeling of traveling. Of being someone important with an agenda. Tomorrow I will have a purpose.



Published by


Dominique Ann is a creative. Her love of writing, painting, and music are here lifelines she relies on to survive. She doesn't like to sit still and is always looking for the next adventure. Follow her musings and adventures on this blog.