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20 Morning Writing Prompts to Inspire a Great Day

by Laurie Jonas | May 26, 2020 | Manifesting | 0 comments

Starting your morning off in a positive way can make all the difference. In fact, I’m of the opinion that utilizing morning writing prompts is one of the best ways to inspire a great day. When I listened to Abraham Hicks last week, and he told me that “You are in pure positive energy every moment that you are asleep,” I immediately wrote the post, The Power of Positive Thoughts in the Morning . It included 30-morning affirmations you can choose from to keep the positive energy flowing. But I feel like there is more you can do. So today, I am providing you 20 morning writing prompts to keep the positive momentum going.

To motivate you, here are a few reasons to start writing in your journal every morning:

• Your mind is clear and flowing with positive energy. Take advantage of that and write some of the positive intuition and messages down.
• If you journal before you check your phone or social media, you can focus on what you want. Not what you should be doing or how to do something better than others. Journaling is a way to tap into your own creative mind.
• When you repeatedly do something, it becomes a habit. In this case, a positive habit that can change the momentum of your days.
• If you get up early enough, you can take advantage of the quiet before the routine of your day has to start—schedule time when you will have no distractions.
• The more you write about what you love and what makes you happy, the more things that you love and make you happy will show up in your life. It’s the Law of Attraction !
• The key to creating your best life is to be clear on what you desire. Journaling can help you find that clarity.

OK, now that you know the benefits to journal writing , here are some morning writing prompts to get you started.

Just pick one each day. Notice which one triggers a response when you read it. What is your intuition nudging you to write about?

20 Morning Writing Prompts

These 5 things make me feel good and will make me feel better today.

How does my body feel today? Where is there tension and stress? Where do I feel light? Start with your toes and scan to the top of your head.

What is one baby step I can take today that will move me in the direction of my desires?

This is what is really exciting in my life right now!

What thoughts kept me up last night? Write for 15 minutes about that thought and why it lingers.

What can I do today that I will appreciate tonight before I sleep?

How can I bring someone else joy today?

Related Post: Journal Prompts to Find Focus

Start Your Morning Off Right

What can I do today that will make me feel healthy?

What is my soul telling me today? Take 3 deep breaths and ask the question. Then start writing whatever comes to mind.

Where in my life do I need more help? Money, spirituality, love, career, purpose, friendships, or health. Who can I ask to help?

A praise I have is… A prayer I have is… Write praise and prayer. What am I grateful for, and what do I need? This morning writing prompt idea borrowed from Elizabeth McCravy .

Is there a new affirmation I want to write ? Write one based on the answer to these questions. What do I want to feel like today? What am I really good at? How do I want to show myself to the world?

What would a perfect day look like today?

Things to Journal About in the Morning

Write about a memory from my childhood that makes me happy.

What popped into my mind while I was showering, exercising, brushing my teeth, making coffee, etc., this morning? What is my intuition telling me?

Can I remember anything about my dreams last night? What might they have been trying to tell me?

Related Post: 16 Thoughtful Journal Prompts for Self Reflection 

What do I have to do today that I would rather not do? How can I change my perception of it?

Who can I connect with today? What kind of friend do I need in my life? Who can get me closer to my goals?

Or try these prompts taken from my Living Marvelously Journal.

Say this to yourself or out loud, “Spirit, take my hand. I am ready and willing to speak with you today. Thank you in advance for your words, your wisdom, your guidance, and your grace.” Then start writing.

Wouldn’t it be awesome if…? Finish that sentence in 25 different ways.

Journal Writing in the Morning

I hope I have given you some inspiration to start writing each morning with these morning writing prompts. Take advantage of the time in the morning when your mind is still in pure positive energy and is clear.

You may discover your next big dream or desire. Or, you might solve some issues that you have been struggling with. And I know you will start your day with a more positive mindset.

Happy writing!

For more motivation and inspiration to live a positive and marvelous life, check out The Living Marvelously Journal and The 5 L’s of Living Marvelously .

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Do you ever struggle to find the time or energy to write creatively in the morning? If so, you’re not alone. Many people find it hard to get into the creative mindset early in the day. In this blog post, I’ll discuss some tips for establishing a morning routine that will help jumpstart your creativity.

1) Get up early. 

This may seem counterintuitive, but getting up earlier can give you more time to focus on your writing. Plus, there’s something about the quiet of early morning that just feels conducive to creativity. So set that alarm clock a little earlier than usual and see how it goes. Personally, I baulk at the idea of getting up an hour early, but I can manage twenty minutes. Those twenty minutes make a huge difference to me and my writing life.

2) Take some time for yourself. 

Before you start writing, take a few minutes to do something for yourself. This could be anything from taking a quick walk around the block to reading a few pages of your favourite book. The important thing is to take a few moments to clear your head and get into the right mindset for creative writing. 3) Find a comfortable spot.

Make sure you’re comfortable before writing. Find a spot where you can sit or stand comfortably. You might also consider playing soft music in the background to help you focus.

4) Try journalling or free writing before turning on the internet.

Set a timer for five or ten minutes and just write whatever comes into your head, without stopping to edit or worry about spelling or grammar. This can help get the creative juices flowing and warm up your brain for writing later in the day.

5) A change of space. 

If you want to write in the morning, but you’re struggling, try writing in a different location each day, or at least mix things up a bit. If you typically write at your kitchen table, try taking your laptop outside to the porch or park or working at a coffee shop instead. A change of scenery can help jumpstart the creative process!

If you’re not a morning person, don’t despair – there are plenty of other times during the day when you can get your creative juices flowing. Try setting aside some time each day to brainstorm new ideas or work on developing existing ones. If you can’t seem to get started, try brainstorming in the evening before bedtime or whenever you have some free time during the day. The important thing is to find a routine that works for you and stick with it! Want to know more about your writing routine? Click here for my fun quiz.

Do you have any other tips for jumpstarting your creativity in the morning? Share them with me here.

If you want to read something similar, check out the following:

How to Find the Time to Write How To Set Effective Writing Goals

Rachel Grosvenor

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Writing In the Morning: How to Create Perfect Routine

Discover the benefits of writing in the morning and how to create the perfect daily routine.

Would you like to wake up early? For years, I was a night owl. I wrote in the evening or late at night. I enjoyed the idea of writing into the wee small hours with only Frank Sinatra, the moon, and the blank page for company.

But, a job and the demands of family life make it difficult to write at the end of the day or late at night. For me, it wasn’t practical to write past midnight and then get up the next day, go to work at my full-time job, and function with a family.

I struggled with rising early and wondered if I’d ever become a morning person. Then, I read about the daily routines of many creatives I admire. I found many of them like waking up early, including the composer Ludwig Van Beethoven, the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard and authors like Haruki Murakami , Ernest Hemingway and Kurt Vonnegut.

Famous Early Morning Writers

1. write down your ideal morning writing routine, 2. prepare your writing the night before, 3. pick a target time for waking up early, 4 . create your sleep schedule, 5. follow a wind-down ritual, 6. use caffeine… sparingly, 7. get into a state of creative flow, 8. track your progress, the final word on early morning writing habit, how can i force myself to wake up early, is it good to wake up early, is writing in the morning good, what should i write every morning.

Well-known early morning writers include Ernest Hemingway, Dan Brown and Kurt Vonnegut. A few years ago, I attended an event where Dan Brown spoke about his daily routine. He said he gets up at four am every morning to write his thrillers and fiction because that time of the day is free of distractions. Vonnegut and Hemingway both rose around five to five thirty am most days to work on their novels. Hemingway said about his early morning writing:

“When I am working on a book or a story, I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write.”

Julia Cameron famously advocates for rising early to engage in long-form stream of consciousness writing in her book The Miracle of Morning Pages . She writes:

“Each morning, as we face the page, we meet ourselves. The pages give us a place to vent and a place to dream. They are intended for no eyes but our own.”

The American philosopher and psychologist William James was another advocate of a consistent routine. He said:

“The great thing, then, in all education, is to make automatic and habitual, as early as possible, as many useful actions as we can, and to guard against the growing into ways that are likely to be disadvantageous to us, as we should guard against the plague.”

Thinking through an ideal morning on paper will help you visualize your day and increase your chances of avoiding procrastination first thing

Here’s mine: meditate for twenty minutes, brew coffee, engage in a writing session for at least one hour, and record ten ideas. After that, I make breakfast and get the kids up for school.

Although your ideal morning routine may not look like this, it’s useful to consider what you want to accomplish after waking. Do you want to engage in brainstorming, write some early morning pages, edit an article, outline a book chapter or simply engage in writing practice?

The good news is it’s easier to make time for writing at the start of the day as you’re less likely to become distracted by email, social media, the news, work and other distractions. If you need help, consider free writing about your early morning routine.

Before bed, consider what you want to write the next morning. Read through the previous day’s work. Leave your notes, drafts and other writing tools. Open up your writing app and queue the day’s music. I sometimes also like leaving a Post-It note on my keyboard containing a prompt about creative work or what to write first.

When you get up, starting a writing session is much easier if everything is in front of you. Writing down what you will write the next day primes your subconsciousness to work on the idea even when you’re asleep. If you need some inspiration for your morning routine, check out the blog My Morning Routine .

If you set your alarm clock for four AM tomorrow morning, you may get up, but you’ll be exhausted and unlikely to repeat this heroic feat of endurance the following day .

It’s not much fun getting up at dawn and then fumbling through the day with only four or five hours of sleep. Instead, set your alarm clock for half an hour earlier than your normal time. The following day, set your alarm for 45 minutes earlier than your normal rising time. And so on.

Like pennies gradually filling a jar, these small incremental gains will help you reach your desired rising time and become an early riser. 

Pick an ideal time to wake up based on work and family commitments. For example, if you work a nine to five job, rising at five am or six could work. However, if you work shifts, you may need to adapt to this rising time.

My ideal rising time is half five. If I rise any earlier, I’m too exhausted to function during the day. If I wake any later than six AM, I’m running behind, or I don’t have enough time to write before the working day begins. My target rising time enables me to make time for distractions and interruptions.

You set an alarm clock for getting up, so why not one for going to bed? You can easily create the ideal sleep schedule with various apps including the inbuilt clock app on the Apple iPhone and Android phones. They’ll determine what time you should go to bed at to achieve the optimal amount of sleep, based on your target rising time.

I set an alarm clock for 21.30. Once this alarm clock goes off, I stop checking emails, using my computer, drinking caffeine, and doing anything else that will keep me up late. The clock app on Apple iPhone includes a setting that will give an ideal bedtime based on waking up early.

I also recommend using a sleep tracker, like a Garmin Watch, Whoop, or Fitbit, so that you can track your sleep cycle for a few weeks.

It’s hard for night-owls to get into the habit of falling asleep at an earlier time of day than usual. That’s where a good wind-down or nighttime routine can help.

When you receive a notification about going to bed, it’s time to reduce exposure to screens, avoid heavy meals and engage in relaxing activities like meditation or reading.

The blue light glare of a computer screen stimulates the brain and makes it harder to fall asleep. If you must work late in front of a screen, consider investing in a pair of blue light glasses. According to a 2017 study by The University of Houston, they can increase melatonin production by 58%.

I also like leaving an alarm in a different bedroom from where I sleep. When an alarm goes off first thing, I have to get out of bed and go into the other room to turn it off. The act of moving makes it harder to press the snooze button or roll over and go back to sleep. The simple act of moving will mitigate feeling groggy too.

I sometimes set a second quieter alarm clock in the bedroom to avoid waking others up. After a few days, your body will begin to adjust to this new routine and it should become easier to fall asleep and wake up in the morning.

A cup of coffee in the morning can jumpstart your day better than any energy drink . It’s tempting to start consuming more coffee when you first start waking early. However, avoid drinking multiple cups of coffee throughout the day, as you’ll find it harder to sleep.

If you drink coffee in the afternoon, trace amounts of caffeine will stay in your system until well into the late night and impact sleep quality. Switch to low-caffeine or caffeine-free drinks after mid-day. If you need to restore energy levels, take a 20-minute nap at lunch, at least until your body adapts.

Investing in a set of noise-cancelling headphones is a fantastic way of enjoying a writing session, particularly one at dawn. You can use it to listen to ambient or lyric-free music, which will help you get into a state of creative flow faster. In that state, all sense of time and effort fades away and it becomes easier to write a difficult first draft . You’re far more likely to do your best writing in this mental state.

For help finding this type of lyric-free music, check out the Flow State Substaack newsletter. Headphones (or earplugs if you’re on a budget) will also block out distractions like other people getting up and going about their day.

It’s easier to create a good habit if you know what works and doesn’t and how close you are to realizing this habit. Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a day on your new early morning schedule.

For the first few weeks, I recorded when I got up, how long I slept, and when I went to bed. I found out that checking email and social media late at night is bad because I find it hard to sleep afterwards.

I recommend using Jerry Seinfeld’s Don’t Break the Chain system. It’s a good habit formation strategy that anyone can easily apply. Each day you wake up early, mark an X through today’s date. Your job is to build a chain of Xs and avoid breaking this chain. For more, check out our writing productivity guide .

Many writers wake up early because their mornings are usually distraction-free and quiet. These hours are also ideal for working on creative projects like a book, a blog or writing morning pages.

You don’t need to be an early bird to start waking up at dawn. It takes practice and some self-discipline. Maintaining consistent circadian rhythms helps. A circadian rhythm refers to your sleeping and waking cycle. Consistent early morning risers go to bed and rise at the same time every day, including at the weekends.

My morning routine varies. I don’t get up early every day , 365 days a year. I sleep late at least one day at the weekend, and there are times when it’s not possible or practical to get up at six AM because of the demands of the previous day.

I accept these days for what they are (a time to rest or sleep) instead of seeing them as setbacks on my journey towards creating an ideal morning writing routine. It takes a little time to shift a sleep cycle from working and rising late to rising early.

I told a friend once when you find writing time in the morning, “you give the best of yourself to yourself.” He laughed. I know this sounds ridiculous, but it’s harder to work on what matters if you’re feeling physically and mentally exhausted from work or day-to-day life.

But what if you are more creative  at night? If you’re happy with your late-night writing process, stick with what works. Tharp sums this up in her book, The Creative Habit .

“In the end, there is no ideal condition for creativity. What works for one person is useless for another. The only criterion is this: Make it easy on yourself.”

Writing in the Morning FAQs

During the day avoid caffeine. Stop working in front of a screen after your evening meal. If possible, go to bed at a reasonable hour and read for a little bit, ideally a paperback. Lay out your clothes and set an alarm in a different room from where you sleep. The first morning will feel challenging, but rising early will become more natural after a few days.

If you want more time to work, meditate, exercise, write or work on personal projects that cultivate your well-being, waking up early is a good habit to create. You’ll have more free time to work on what matters rather than other people’s priorities. Waking up early also means you’re more likely to feel energised and fresh.

Writing in the morning is good because that time of the day is usually quieter and free of distractions. Prolific early morning writers often say they can get their best work done before lunch as they have more physical and mental energy. It’s also an ideal writing time if you’re balancing the creative process with a full-time job.

Deciding what to write every morning depends on whether you’re a blogger, podcaster, author, or freelance writer. Usually, it’s a good idea to work on your most important creative project and hit a target word count or milestone for the day. That way, you’ll accomplish the hardest task of the day first thing. You could also try writing early morning pages, whereby you engage in long-form stream of consciousness writing by hand.

Bryan Collins is the owner of Become a Writer Today. He's an author from Ireland who helps writers build authority and earn a living from their creative work. He's also a former Forbes columnist and his work has appeared in publications like Lifehacker and Fast Company.

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Morning Darkness

by Joe Bunting | 61 comments

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PRACTICE Write about the darkness of morning. Write for fifteen minutes. Post your practice in the comments when finished. And if you post, make sure to comment on a few other Practitioners' posts. Good luck!

Photo by Per Ola Wiberg

Here's my practice:

His eyes snapped open before dawn from a long restlessness. He had fought for too many hours to stay dreaming, and he knew there was nothing left to do but get up. He got up, turned off his alarm to spare his sleeping wife the sound, and stumbled into the living room, where he stood in front of the window for several minutes, scratching his bare belly.

It was dark. He couldn't remember the last morning he woke to darkness. Behind the bare trees he could see an aircraft warning tower flashing its livid red lights. He thought it an odd thing. Why have a light tower in the middle of the country? Are planes in danger of hitting the oaks? He had never noticed it before.

He went outside. The cold wasn't the biting but the slow seeping kind. He wished he had brought his slippers, but he didn't want to go back to his room to get them. He felt he was doing something important, surveying the land, taking in something he saw only a few times per year: the darkness before dawn.

It was different than nighttime. Night's darkness is a winding down, meant to tell you your world is getting smaller, more stiff with cold, meant to lead you to your bedroom and to sleep. But this darkness that seeped into his bones, that glared livid like the red flashing light tower, seemed full of potential, as if he could reach out and grab it from the sky and form it into a small ball of darkness, make something magical out of it, a jewel maybe or maybe it was like a lump of clay to turn into a small bowl. What he meant was that this darkness felt more like light.

Beyond the darkness were the trees and they were shrouded in it, wore darkness like great cloaks, and before the trees was a field full of dark colored grass. He could not see the grass, though. He just knew it was there like he knew the trees were there and like he knew his wife lay sleeping inside and knew nerves lay underneath his skin and cold was seeping through them and into his bones. Like he knew he must go inside soon.

But there, beyond the trees, stood that red glaring light tower he did not know. It flashed on and off. He looked into it and he did not know why it was there or why the darkness seemed to gather around it as moths gather around light even though they're beaten back again and again by the heat. Yes, the dark was darkest around that red light and he couldn't go inside but just stared into the darkness, trying to memorize its shape.

He stood until the sky let out enough light that the tower he hadn't known was there was gone again and he went in.

Don't forget to enter into our writing contest for February . The theme is love stories, but I'm sure you can figure out a way to keep it as cheese-less and Valentines-Day-free as possible.

Joe Bunting

Joe Bunting is an author and the leader of The Write Practice community. He is also the author of the new book Crowdsourcing Paris , a real life adventure story set in France. It was a #1 New Release on Amazon. Follow him on Instagram (@jhbunting).

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61 Comments

The alarm blared. I groggily stagger to the dresser to push the button. Just a few more minutes. The same tired shuffle until I collapse onto the bed. It’s never enough, for the alarm blares again. This time I have to open my eyes to find the shut off button. Monday morning bleariness: what a way to start the week. I shuffle to the kitchen, the cold tile on my feet begins to wake me as I prepare the elixer of life. A quick prayer of thanks is offered for the creation of coffee. Stretching I return down the hall. Stopping at each door to wake the rest of the crew my efforts are met with grunts and other noises. I let the robe fall in a puddle in the floor as I step into the shower. Jets of hot water massage my skin and scalp as I begin to wake. Slowly, I begin to come alive again. I can’t remember the last time I woke on my own in the morning, when it actually was morning. It’s still dark and will be for another hour. In my mind, the morning darkness should be for sleeping and burrowing deeper under the covers. It wouldn’t be such an issue if I were actually a morning person. My muse visits me late into the night, causing furious episodes of working while the inspiration is there. Last night was one of those nights. A smile gently plays at the corner of my mouth, the days are getting longer now and the sun is rising earlier. Simple things are worth smiling about. Ten minutes later, I’m fully awake. The hustle and bustle of the morning routine is like a frenzied dance that is well choreographed. It works until somebody misses a step. It’s my job to keep them on task, focused, and moving. By the time everyone is taken care of; the kids on the bus, the husband’s lunch packed and on his way, it’s now time for my day to begin in earnest. A refill of coffee is the all important ingredient as I settle in at my desk, and fire up the beast. The first rays of sunlight stream through the glass of the front door, streaming audio playing, it’s going to be a grand day! I roll my shoulders and begin. After the obligatory staring at the screen period, I eventually find my groove as I pour myself into the current project. I always think I’ll get a nap later, but it never happens. It will be full dark before I even think about sleep, then the cycle will begin again.

This is a good description of morning and especially of coffee, the only morning companion you mention in detail. The coffee almost has a personality.

I like this a lot, Ellie, don’t stop contributing. I smiled several times while reading, sometimes at content, other times at how your phrased it. I loved this blunt line with no explanation of what you were working on (I don’t think it needed one) “Last night was one of those nights.” Loved “fire up the beast” and how you “roll your shoulders to begin.” I actually found myself rolling my shoulders to get into the same groove you describe, except it’s the end of my day and I’m rolling them to get ready the other “beast” — family time. Nice work.

I loved this, Ellie. Loved the description, the dailyness of it all and the commitment to your own good work and how that carries your through from dark to dark. Well done.

Why is it that when I set my fingerts to keys; I always think “Theirs is so much better than mine?” Does anyone else do that to themselves? Not a very descriptive attempt but more of a get the bones down contribution. I loved yours, and wanted to just like a skip posting. BUT,it’s part of my plan this year to challenge myself, so I posted.

Good for you, Ellie. Comparison is a trick of the Resistance. It will kill your creativity (and maybe even your soul). Way to overcome it.

My cell rang one, two, three times. Damn alarm… I turn it off and stumble to the bathroom. I turn on the hot water and get in. My eyes are still closed. I shower in darkness. Only when I get out and turn to the sink to brush my teeth that I open them. I brush my teeth, floss and comb my hair.

I enter my room and turn on the lights. It’s like a cave in here, the way I like it. I put on my clothes and my make up. I do my hair up, after all it’s Thursday already, I might have a drink or two after work. Yes, that’d be nice. Maybe I’ll try that new pub on Carlson Street. I wonder if Nick will join me.

Still thinking about Nick I walk to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. Maybe I’ll have toast this morning. I eat my breakfast in silence. Thinking about nothing. God, I’m so sleepy today.

As I walk back to the living room I notice. Why it’s still dark? I turn around and walk back to the kitchen. For the first time I look at the clock in the wall.

Damn it. It’s 3 o’clock in the morning.

I’m so tired that I can’t even get mad. I just walk to my room, strip from my clothes and reset the alarm clock. Good night.

Ha! I’ve done that but I never got completely ready before I figured out what was going on. It’s awful when that happens but it’s funny too. Thanks

Nicely done. It really conveys the whole sense of being on automatic pilot very well.

Oooh, nice twist! thank you.

This is beautiful Joe. As an insomniac, I often see the early hours of morning before dawn. It’s almost shiny sometimes, luminous, magical as you said. I like the lines about the trees wearing cloaks and “The cold wasn’t the biting, but the slow creeping kind.” not just because I like that description of cold but because of the way the sentence is constructed. It sounds good. Also your description of the difference between the quality of the night’s darkness in the morning, as opposed to in the evening it interesting, lyrical and memorable. What more could you want from writing?

Yes, luminous and pregnant with the potential of the day. You’re great. Thanks for the critique!

Mrs. Dalloway would approve of the potential of the day I think. ; )

This is my second post here (but I think I everyone missed my first post, on last Monday’s thread, because I was two days late posting).

I wake up suddenly. 7:25. Five minutes before the alarm, as usual. I don’t know why I even set it. I turn it off, walk quietly to the kitchen, turn on the coffee maker. Head to the washroom, relieve myself and splash cold water on my face. Back to the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee. My routine so ingrained I do it in the dark.

The house is so peaceful with the boys still asleep. I stare out the kitchen window at the darkness, broken only by the streetlights. Still an hour till sunrise. I hate these short winter days. I rarely see the sunlight, the sun rising and setting while I’m stuck in my office.

Still, the darkness has its own beauty. Hoarfrost covers the trees and bushes from an overnight ice fog, tiny crystal daggers glinting, giving the trees near the streetlights a ghostly glow. But I can already feel the chill in my bones, knowing that I have to go out into the cold, scrape the ice from the car windows, sit in the ice-cold seat, driving for several minutes before the car finally warms up. Winter is beautiful when you can stay inside. Not so much when you have to go out.

I sit in front of my SAD light, waiting for the bright light to fool my brain that it’s summer, giving me the energy to go about my day. Without it I would probably just crawl back into bed. I dream of the real summer sun, rising before I do, the bright light already shining through the bedroom window when I awake. My time is up. I go to wake the rest of the family.

I too enjoy the solutude of being the first to wake in the morning. You captured that feeling very well.

I can see the trees with that kind of glinting halo they get near the streetlights now. I like how you move though the story with action, but have enough description that I can “see” what going on.

Hey R.E., Welcome back! i just checked out your first post…so you can go back there and know it wasn’t lost in the sea of comments 🙂

This piece is very cool. I love how you use everyday, common language to describe your routine (no fancy adjectives here), and then LET LOOSE when you shift to describing the darkness! Tiny crystal daggers glinting. Fantastic. I can see them without even having to squint.

I wonder if you could stretch this part out a smidge…i’d love to luxuriate in the visuals of the darkness for just a few moments more before having to sit in the ice-cold seat. 🙂

Well, again — so glad you’ve joined us! Will look for you in upcoming posts!!

What a “quiet” piece you’ve written, exactly typifying the experience the charact is having. There seems to be an incongruity, however. You say that winter is beautiful inside, but then describe the use of the SAD light. I understand what you mean, but you might want to make it clearer. Nice work. My wife and I REALLY enjoy the short time we have in the morning before the boys wake up and become the center of our existence.

Morning comes with the blinds pulled and the day, the outside world, not quite real yet. The remnants of a dream dissolve in the buzz buzz buzz of the alarm. There are so many things to do. So many obligations to meet. But you lie still in the dark dawn listening to the cat purr and watching a thin line of creeping sunlight move slowly across the room. “Move,” you say. A command. A wish. The floor is cold; the winter chill coming up through the foundation and stealing the strength from your bones. The cat stretches and curls up without a care next to the pillows in the warmth your body has left there. You walk stiffly to the window; turn the blinds to see only the weak, just rising sun barely glint through the heavy clouds. Dark days. January through March covered in frost or rain or the endless grey that presses on your heart like a nearly forgotten sorrow. No course to take except continue to get ready for the day because the minutes start ticking to the hours that won’t be your own. So much to do and it is all the same every day.

Your story really set a mood. I can remember those cold morning when the only thing that made you move was the fear of eviction.

Nicely done, I like the way you use description.

I like this and especially like that it is short, as if you had to quickly leave the exercise “because the minutes start ticking to the hours that won’t be your own.”

I like this image: “…the endless grey that presses on your heart like a nearly forgotten sorrow.”

thanks for sharing your work.

Not just your description but the whole tone of this is gray and weary, a workday morning, very sad. I like this “Presses on your heart like a nearly forgotten sorrow”.

Exactly. A mood piece – beautifully captured feeling of dark, both in the environment and in your own spirit. Winter can be like that…

The bed creaked as I lifted myself from the warm cocoon of blankets. I hadn’t taken off my jeans when I went to bed last night, so I stepped into my shoes and stood listening to my wife’s rhythmic breathing. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and gently closed the door behind me. In the kitchen I poured a cup of coffee into my travel mug and walked to the front door, then stepped out into the early morning darkness. I settled in behind the steering wheel and turned the key, the engine sounded loud as it groaned to life in the suburban quiet. Gravel crunched under the wheels as I eased down the driveway and pulled out onto the paved road. I turned to car toward the lake high up in the mountains. The Tennessee Valley Authority had created the lake when it built the dams used to generate cheap electricity. It was one of the most beautiful lakes I had ever seen. I pulled in along the side of the road and turned off the engine. I sat there listening to my breathing, the engine ticked as it cooled. I put the cup in the holder and opened the door and stepped out into cool air. I walked to the edge of the lake and sat on a fallen tree and looked out onto the placid water. Looking east I saw a sliver of light on the horizon. A invisible jet engine growled in an inky sky pricked with lights of diamond. My thoughts returned to last night and what happened just as my shift was ending at midnight. The call came in over the radio, her voice filled with static. An armed robbery had just occurred and the suspect fled in a red Mustang. The dispatcher was still speaking as a red Mustang drove past me at high speed. Before I had a chance to reply to dispatch I pulled out and accelerating after the car. That time of night left very little traffic on the road so I was able to catch up to the suspect car quickly. The car suddenly pulled to the side of the road and the driver jumped out and ran. I stopped and chased the dark figure as it ran. As I rounded a corner I saw him and froze. He was only ten feet away and he had a gun aimed at me. I dropped to my knees as I withdrew my weapon and fired, three times, and then watched him fall back and go down. It was a clean incident, one for which I was sure I’d be cleared of making a wrong decision, even when it was learned that the suspects gun wasn’t real.

The lake surface became a mirror as the sun broke above the horizon and turned the sky pink and grey. In the dim light, it was difficult to know where the mountain began and where the reflection ended. I sat back and turned my eyes to the lightening sky and thought about the man I had killed. Kill or be killed? Many people think it’s that simple, but I learned that it isn’t simple at all. He was dead and I was left to think about it.

What a story! You packed a lot into a very little bit of space and it makes sense. I like it. I wish the other guy hadn’t had a toy gun though. Bummer! to put it mildly.

It’s never a good idea to point a gun at a police officer, real or not. But it happens quite often. There is something called, “Suicide by cop,” where a person who lacks the courage to kill themselves will put themselves in a situation where a police officer will have to shoot. Either way, it can have the same effect on a policeman.

Angelo, love this story. I especially like this graf: “Looking east I saw a sliver of light on the horizon. An invisible jet engine growled in an inky sky pricked with lights of diamond. My thoughts returned to last night and what happened just as my shift was ending at midnight.”

I like the thin psychological line you’ve created between doing what’s necessary and doing what can be psychologically traumatic. Very nicely crafted.

The psychological trauma is often missed when a police officer is involved in a shooting, although police departments are beginning to recognize the phenomenon.

Wow…While reading this, I could see it like I was there, and I could feel what he was feeling. You are very talented at describing the details, Angelo. I, too, wish the other guy didn’t have a toy gun.

Was NOT expecting that. And I sure that are those times when you must just have some space and some quiet to reflect on those parts of the job that are the very toughest. You went somewhere bordering on deep with this one. I would encourage you to take this out and write more, reworking, rethinking. If this really happened to you, not only would it be good for your writing skills, but it could be good for your soul, too. Therapy in your fingertips.

My heart started beating faster when I read the action part. Whew! Your use of words like “froze” and “fled” made it so effective.

And boy, I love the description in your last para. It’s like a sort of contrast after the action.

Joe, you turned the darkness into a living, breathing entity in your story.

I can’t take too much credit, Angelo. We’ll blame it on my muse. But thank you for the compliment 🙂

Her heard his wife moving about in the house, coming up from the basement, walking though the dining room, and onto the porch. He looked at the clock’s square illuminated dial. It was five o’cock. He decided to go ahead and get up.

She worried him when she walked around at night just before dawn, and then lay down to sleep as the sun rose. She knew that and tried to act like she didn’t get up like she just needed to sleep a lot now that she was older, but he heard her after twelve, running water to make tea, turning on the fan, typing. He started down the steps and sure enough, he heard her shut the porch door and hurry to the basement where she slept. She would be pretending to be asleep if he followed her. Such an odd woman he thought fondly, how did he wind up married to her.

As he entered the dining room, he heard something moving about on the porch. It sounded like it was pulling out a porch chair, or maybe getting ready to open the door. He went to the closet grabbed his rifle, and rushed back to the porch, but rather than throw open the door and shoot the intruder, he felt it prudent to take a look out there first.

There in the odd darkness of early morning in Virginia, he saw what appeared to be a huge fat old dog moving about on the porch. But no, it wasn’t a dog, it was a raccoon, a vector for rabies. He checked his rifle to see if it was loaded, started to open the door, and then heard her behind him. 
“Don’t shoot Ralph,” she said. He felt her leaning against him, warm and soft in her housedress, taking nervous rapid breaths.

“It’s a raccoon. Raccoons carry rabies,” he said, and even to him, his voice sounded too loud, strident.

“Please don’t hurt him. I opened the door. He looked so sad, you know how they look.” He saw how sad she was and waited for her to add a word or two about how the raccoon’s world was being wrecked by humans, but she didn’t mention that, just stood their, her hair messy, her face childlike, anxious.

“Let’s just let him get off the porch before we go out and keep the door locked,” He said in a gentler but still exasperated voice. They watched as Ralph, who seemed to get the idea that he should leave, slowly sauntered off the porch not looking back.

“Okay, I’m going to bed now,” she said.

He’d hoped for a cup of coffee with her but she’d probably been up most of the night. He made himself a cup and took it to the porch. The sky was still dark but had a glow that meant dawn was coming. He sat in the quiet and smoked. As the dawn lifted and a grayish light moved over the porch, he saw something shining on the floor near the table. He leaned forward to see a dish, with just a little bit of peach preserves clinging to it, and just beyond that on the other side of the screen was a face with a dark mask surrounding luminous eyes, glow in the dark eyes.

“So Ralph, you’re who she’s eating breakfast with now-a-days,” he said.

Marianne, I like your story. Using a raccoon was a great idea. They look like miniature bandits, but they’re cute. But they carry rabbies. You gave your reader lots to think about. Leave him alone, feed him because he’s cute? Or shoot him because he carries a dangerous disease?

Thanks Angelo. I used the raccoon because I used to work at a state hospital, had to go in one night, parked by the building only to see a huge raccoon cracking acorns on the sidewalk in front of the building. I had heard they were rabid and was afraid to go past him. I had to honk my horn until one of the aides came out and yelled “Git coon!” I kid you not. That’s exactly what she said. Bless her heart. The raccoon heeded her, shuffled off and I went in. After asking around about how fat this raccoon was, I heard that one of the aides had been feeding it cat food, so it was getting that in addition to the acorns, and whatever else it could find. It just worries me when people make pets of them because they are vectors of rabies. I’m from the city but have lived where I am now for 25 years, and I love the wildlife but it worries me a lot too.

A number of years ago my family and I went camping in the Florida Keys. The raccoon’s were everywhere. At night you could hear them getting into people’s coolers and they actually popped the tops of soda and beer cans. They not only look live thieves, they are thieves.

What a great little vignette of a story. I’m left wondering so much more – about their marriage, about the area where they live. Way to draw the reader in. (And I’m with you, they may be cute looking, but racoons are wild creatures and need to be respected as such. And they can be scary, sometimes, too.)

“Morning darkness” is an oxymoron. Morning belongs to the sun. Vampires vanish in the morning. Criminals hide. Workers wake.

This morning, however, Trevor slip-slod to the window, swooshing aside with his right foot a tee-shirt and then a pair of underwear with his left. He cracked open the blind. It was dark, but his clock shown 7:13. What was wrong? Where was the light? Were there nefarious beings up to no-good? Aliens in need of a sun who possibly lassoed our hallowed yellow ball and hauled it to a distant galaxy, or at least a few light years past the dwarf planet Pluto?

Trevor’s left hand instinctively scrunched into his left eye socket, deeply rubbing out the confusion he felt. His right hand did the same to its symmetrical visual partner. Still, the darkness reigned.

At the bureau, Trevor flicked on the TV. Large smiling heads seemed to bob up and down, albeit blurry, rambling about stuff that didn’t quite filter through Trevor’s cortextual understanding. But, he thought, this means it’s morning. So where is the sun?

Out to the kitchen, the somnambulant Trevor could smell the coffee brewing. Again, he peaked out the window. It seemed darker than before. What were those lights in between the trees? The bushes? The cars? There seemed to be little twinkling lights, as if the very atoms of matter were visible. These blinkering mirages didn’t seem to give off light, but they were light nonetheless.

“Hey,” he said into his phone. “What time is it?”

Gabe, on the other end, obliged the request. “7:21, why?”

“Where’s the light?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The light outside. Where is it?”

“Where are you, Trevor? Are you okay?”

“I’m in my house. Just woke up and it’s as dark as sin outside, and inside come to think of it, and I want to know where the light is.”

There was a long pause. Trevor blinked out the window again, seemingly dodging the flashing blinkering lights that were everywhere.

“Trevor, are you feeling okay? There’s plenty of light where I am. How do you feel? Do you have a headache? Were you out late last night? What’s going on?”

Trevor dropped the phone. He ran to the bathroom, flicked on the light, but there was no difference. He continued flicking the light switch on and off, on and off, on and off. But there was no difference in his visual perception.

Did he go blind?

I don’t know. My 15 minutes were up.

LOVE this answer. Hope you find out one day!

Ha! I know the feeling, my characters are either getting away with murder, or suffering alone, or who knows what else, now-a-days because I can’t keep my eye on them. I do love the timer though, it makes me not as paralyzed and overly analytical. Thanks for a good story anyway, I will just have to decide for myself what happened to him, I guess that’s the way life really is anyway. ; )

nothing wrong with a cheesy cliche love story.

Wow, Marianne, I really like this story. Full of surprises and humanity, and something perhaps “extra” humanity.

Thanks Chris

Barely awake, but a commitment pulls me between warm sheets. It is a commitment to meet seven or more friends for that early morning walk. Some of the ladies like Ginny, Florence and Cissie have walked together for many years and thirty or more have joined them, but most of the larger group have decided walking at the crack of dawn is not for now.

I’m fairly new to some in the group and as I turn to my side and lower my legs I, too, am not sure that I am one who can keep the commitment for jaunts beginning in the dark and yet, I know the expectations and so I begin the day.

From habit I quickly pull up the bed covers and place the pillows on top making sure of the neatness. Bed making when half asleep was something that I learned early in life when I lived back in the mountains of North Carolina. Mother had taught that a bed made up is the first responsibility of growing up and growing up meant assuming responsibility and no daughter of hers would be a slacker. My second responsibility growing up was to quickly brush teeth, don clothes for school and a good warm coat, a scarf and mittens, go out the front door and out to the road and up the hill to the Scott’s mini farm. They had fresh raw milk and eggs and monthly my Dad paid the milk bill. I remembered that I hated that early morning walk.

The woods on either side of the road were dark. The snow and rocks on the road crunched under my feet. The wind blew hard making trees swish and sway and throw down straggly leaves. Occasionally Bozo my dog would bark and head off into the woods and my imagination would go wild in the semi-darkness. I walked quickly and I pray for God’s protection.

The gate lock into the Scott’s yard creaked but the kitchen light sent rays to the steps so up I stepped up, opening the screen door and before I knew it Mrs. Scott had two bottles of milk in my arms and had turned me around to face the walk home still in the semi darkness.

My eight year old heart raced as booted feet quickly walked down the snowy hill eager to see the light on the front porch and happy when I was back at the kitchen table where fried bacon, scrambled eggs, apples slices had been fried with just enough brown sugar added to made them sweet. Hot thin buttered biscuits slithered with butter and a cold glass of Mrs. Scott’s milk then made the awful walk worthwhile in the warmness and brightness of my Mother’s kitchen.

Sixty years later, a recent widow, who for forty-six years had enjoyed a dependable and loving husband crawling out of bed, making the hot coffee, filling the carafe and returning to my side of the bed he put the carafe on the night table, bent over and gave me a kiss. All was a glorious habit and love received. I had to make the decision whether I would get up and get my own coffee. For some reason I couldn’t. It wasn’t delivered with loving attention so the taste wasn’t the same.

It was something that I simply gave up. So with an aching heart I walk to the bathroom, brush teeth, wash my face squinting into the mirror I see wrinkles but hair still brown. I add some silky-smooth face cream, a little make-up and slip from gown to warm ups and then a jacket, grab gloves and turn on the alarm system I walk to meet the women.

Stepping into the semi-darkness again the trees sway but they don’t bother me and my imagination doesn’t work overtime. I again take the time to pray as I feel the cold air on my face.

It is dark in this flatland far from the North Carolina mountains. But the glow from a lamp in the window of my friend’s house, an unlocked door with the understanding that one simply opens it plus the smell of hot coffee and a warm welcome draws one in from the darkness into the light.

Fifteen minutes later warmed with the hot beverage all are out the door and soon in the darkness we walk the sidewalks that wind through the country club golf course. As daylight approaches we see that the greens are perfectly manicured, the trimmed trees are beginning to leaf and here and there a dogwood is beginning to bud. Walking over the humpback bridges we enjoy the awakening of life. It might be doves cooing, or the rushing brook or a distant bark of a dog. In the semi-darkness aloneness has been shattered by togetherness

Every morning is different but usually advice sought and given has been received, the concerns of hearts have been listened to and the assurance that one is never really alone has been experienced. The day began in the darkness, but now it is light and there is day ahead.

That’s so well described that I felt like I was not watching a movie, but was there as I read it.

I wasn’t sure what time it was. How long had I been asleep? My dream woke me in a panic. My heart raced. I felt paralyzed as small streaks of light came through the dark window. I slowly got out of bed and tip-toed around the squeaky floor boards. I went down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. I can do this. I know I can. I pulled out my brown canvas bag. I reached inside and pulled out my notebook. I flipped through the pages. So many ideas already in there. “I don’t need to write anymore today,” I thought to myself. My heart beat faster at this thought. I pulled out my pen and started to mark on the page. “I’m not giving in today,” I told myself. I’m a writer, so I write.

Jim, i can totally see the action of pulling out your notebook…something so pedestrian as a brown canvas bag, and the verbs that accompany it: reaching in, pulling out, flipping through the pages.

i’d love to know more about the dream. is there any way to tie in the content? something that wakes you in a panic — seems like a perfect “hook”, and would be so awesome if you could bring it back somehow at the end. or keep it as a theme throughout the piece.

i know what you mean, when there are so many ideas already logged in, it seems almost fruitless to add more. but not giving in is key. thanks for the reminder!

Thanks Kati! I don’t remember the dream, so it is hard to tell you more about that 😉 Glad I can offer a reminder to keep working!

I like the interesting way that this is arranged, the halter-skelter of morning, and that thought of not needing to write in quotation marks. It catches that idea that I, and I imagine most of us who want to write have, that maybe it can be put off, and then the kind of anxiety that comes with that thought “My heart beat faster at this thought”. I wonder if you might make the source of the anxiety more apparent. I think I know it’s the “I need to write” anxiety but I’m not sure. This is really good Jim and join Kati with a “thanks for the reminder”.

Thanks, I’ll think about your suggestions and see how it hits me when I write more later 🙂 Thank you so much for the kind words, I’m glad you liked it.

“Good morning,” I tell myself. I’m so tired. It’s not quite light yet and the warm covers steal me back to dreamland.

My alarm yells at me. Again. I groan, press snooze, and snuggle up to my husband on my left while my Doberman mix sneaks up on the right side.

This happens every morning. Paisley, the dog, hears my alarm and gently comes sneaking on my bed. She noses under the covers and rests her warm head on my stomach, sighs, and sits still. All 50 pounds of her are against my right side, all 220 pounds of my warm husband on my left. So warm. So happy. So quiet. So perfect.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

My eyes snap open for the third time. I groan, slip up to the tip-top of the bed so I don’t disturb the over-sized sleepers that have officially blocked me under the covers and get up.

Paisley slips out of the covers with me, her desire to be by my side more important than sleep. She whines quietly and wags her stub. “Good morning!” it says.

I smile, although I hate crawling out of bed, I just realize that I’m secretly a morning person. Lying awake next to quiet beings who love unconditionally reminds me that in a few hours the hectic day will take over and that part of snuggle time will be over.

The details here create a clear picture. Being the one who’s always asleep I like to know what it looks like to the ones who get up early, and make the coffee, make morning inviting for us night people. I envy you that moment, which means even in fifteen minute, you’ve created something visceral. Thanks

Aw, thanks! Don’t give me too much credit. I do love those early morning hours, but only until I have to slip out of bed! Thank you for thanking me. I’m never really sure about my writing. 🙂

Four-thirty. Yes, that’s what it said. Shaking her head as she rolled over, she remembered: market day. Stifling a sigh, she sat up, rubbed her eyes and headed for the bathroom. Clothes laid out the night before were pulled on grudgingly – teeth brushed, hair combed, sleep washed from eyes. All of it quietly done, so that her husband could doze until a more normal rousing time.

Mornings were not part of her routine, especially dark mornings. But she had signed on for the whole enchilada when she opened her business, so down the stairs she went. Backing carefully out of the narrow driveway, she headed down the silent street, wondering if anyone else was aware of how very dark it got before the light made its morning debut.

Sailing easily onto the freeway, she headed her car towards downtown Los Angeles. No competition for lane space today, even on that granddaddy of all freeways, the 110, heading toward the interchange. Impossibly narrow lanes seemed wider in the crowdless dark, and the car seemed to steer itself round every bend.

Exiting at Hill Street, she wound her way through Skid Row to Sixth, pulling into the ramp for the parking structure. It was now 5:00 a.m. and parking was at a premium. Hanging her badge around her neck, she locked the car and rode the escalator into another world. This one was brightly lit and noisy, filled with the hustle of vendors and buyers, each wanting to make the deal of the day. But it was the smell that brought her fully awake: the sweet scent of lilies, the spicy aroma of carnations, the ripe, growing smell of greens, all kind of greens.

Grabbing a cart, she began her usual circle, finding bargain roses in the corner, interesting newer breeds along the narrow hallways. “Have you got any scabiosa today?” she asked, still somewhat amazed that something could be so delicate with a name like that. “How about freesia? No, not fully open – have you got some still in buds?”

Slowly, the cart filled with newspaper wrapped bundles. There were two weddings this weekend and a graduation party. And she always liked fresh flowers around her own house – the best advertising in the world and so cheap! When her cart was full and her list checked off, she lugged them all to the car and locked them away.

Then it was time for the supplies. A large warehouse on the floor between the parking and the flowers was filled to the rafters with the stuff of dreams. Designer ribbons, boxes of Oasis, floral tape – anything and everything she needed to make her clients happy. The list was short this week, and soon the shopping was done. Now it was time for breakfast.

This was often the best time of these mornings – fried eggs over rice and char siu pork at the greasy diner next door to the flower mart. Each table filled with shoppers like herself, with a few vendors to liven things up. Lots of hot tea, lots of eavesdropping on conversations, lots of people-watching. Yes, this is what capped off the morning best.

Except, of course, for the ride back home. She knew there would be hard work to do once she got there. The flowers needed to be unwrapped, re-trimmed, set in buckets filled with tepid water and plant food. They needed to harden off for several hours before any arrangements could be assembled. But until then, for the next thirty minutes of so, she had the joy of the rid. With the sun just peeking over the horizon, coloring the California sky with pinks, peaches, lilacs. she could imagine that anything was possible. Anything.

What a beautiful morning from the empty freeway in early morning darkness (reminds me of the one ride on the DC and Baltimore expressways during which I felt almost safe), to the busy shopping, to the breakfast (that sounds so nice and fattening) to the ride home into that sunrise. Well done.

The truth is, she was afraid of the dark, always had been ever since she was little. As a five-year-old, she would lay in her bed, clutching her teddy bear close to her body, covers pulled all the way up to her chin, ready to use them as a sheild at any moment against a nighttime invader. The darkness was dangerous; it brought hideous unnamed monsters out from inside her closet and under her bed.

And even now, when she was all grown up, it was no different. The terrors had merely changed. She’d never admit it to anyone, but the darkness of night still frightened her. It changed her, turned her into an entirely different person. It was during the darkness of night that her demons crept back to her, and she was forced to fight them off. It was only in the hours of the early morning, when the nighttime darkness slowly gave way to morning darkness that she could truly rest easy.

The morning darkness was different than at night. At night, when the sun set and dark came all it brought was more darkness, more black which promised to creep into your thoughts. The darkness of morning was different; she knew its promise was not of more dark, but of light. It promised to chase away the monsters.

Even as an adult, she lay in bed, covers pulled up to her chin, waiting. Waiting for the darkness of morning to come, to give way to dawn, when she could finally rest easy.

She slowly opened her eyes. Waking up this morning wasn’t the usual rude jolt that rocked her out of restfulness. It was more like the gentle coaxing of Mother’s tender voice, lulling her awake with fond crooning.

The room was still dark, her sleepy brain slowly realized. The deep blue shadows of the fading night lingered around the folds of the curtains. There was that tinge of gathering light that made the darkness somehow, comfortable and cosy. She yawned lazily and rolled over. It was too early to get up. She lay there, not willing to remember the anguish of the night before, wanting only to enjoy the quiet moments of restfulness before the sun awoke the rest of world and demanded that everyone get back into their crazy schedules.

She savoured the quietness, the happy, comfortable silence that afforded her a sort of safety. The taunting, the rejection, the whispers behind her back, the sarcastic grins the others exchanged with each other could not find her here, warmly snuggled down under her downy blanket. Here she could rest, and feel like she fit perfectly. She sighed softly, a sigh that was not solely sadness and longing, but one of settled resignation. She had accepted life as it was. There was nothing to do now, but to face it and live above it.

A quiet smile played gently across her young solemn face, adding a hint of the spirit that sparkled in her character. Even in her sad moments, the natural cheerfulness of personality would not be suppressed for long. Yes, she would live above it. She would show herself and others that she was made of nobler stuff than low back-biting and petty resentment.

The darkness was almost gone now. She lay listlessly, waiting for her alarm to sound to signal the start of another hard day. There it was now. As if on cue, her muscles involuntarily tightened. She slowly sat up.

It was time to give life to the resolutions born in the morning darkness.

Alarm. Jerked rudely out of sleep. Lie for a minute. CAN’T STAND IT. Jump up. Whack snooze button. Collaspe into bed.

-9 minutes later-

Alarm. Repeat above.

Alarm. Think nasty words. Smash snooze. On second thought, turn off altogether and force self to get out of bed. Begin thinking in coherent sentences. Well, mostly.

I cover my eyes against the blinding hallway light and walk to the bathroom. Bathroom door. Slam shut. Put paper on the filthy dorm toilet seat. Begin to nod off while performing bodily functions…

…and remember that there’s something important due in Art History today…

Shit. I flush, wash hands, return to room, gather shower paraphernalia, return to bathroom. Doze off slightly in the shower as well. I use conditioner this morning as an excuse to just stand there for a minute, bare skin reddening under the hot water. Wasting water. Killing the environment. Idly, I contemplate drowning myself in the bath, or just slitting my wrists with the razor. Then I rinse out the conditioner, step out of the shower, towel off.

Wrap towel around self. Feel slightly awkward passing another towel-wrapped person in the other direction. Escape to room. Dither over what to wear. Dress to fit mood: oldest, ugliest jeans; random t-shirt; sneakers. I could stuff a sock down my throat to suffocate, but I should probably just blow-dry my hair. I do that. Don’t bother with makeup.

Books — packed. Homework — done. Breakfast — missed it. Coffee — not enough time to make. I hear taking in too much caffeine can kill you. I wonder if anyone’s ever done it on purpose before. Some poor, overworked secretary or boss, probably. Class in fifteen minutes.

If I leave now I can make it, easy. If I fell down the stairs, I could be dead before my roommate woke up. But there’s that homework due. Eh, I still have five minutes til I absolutely have to leave. There’s a large vein in the neck that’ll leave you dead in two minutes flat.

Too tired to find the razor. Too tired to move. I lie back on the bed. I have slept but I have not rested.

Don’t sleep. Lose all track of time, lost in contemplation of the ceiling cracks. The sun has been up for hours, but my morning is dark with potential.

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12 Sun, Sunrise & Sunset Metaphors for Writers

The sun is one of the most common contextual features of a setting that we write about. But it’s hard to come up with creative new ways to talk about something that has been discussed in countless books over Millenia. Below, I’ve compiled some creative sun metaphors that can help you break through that writer’s block and find the perfect setting description in your story.

After exploring metaphors for the sun, I’ll also provide some further adjectives and color descriptions that can help add flair to your writing, and create the perfect image in your reader’s mind.

Sun Metaphors and Similes

1. it slipped through my fingers.

You can picture in your mind sunrays on your hand and, with your fingers outstretched, some of them passing through the gaps in your fingers to lay on the ground below. To say it slipped through your fingers is metaphorical because it didn’t literally slip through anything. It didn’t slide or bounce or refract off your fingers at all. In fact, the it is a long, long way away. Rather, it’s the sunrays that pass between the fingers. But we can be much more creative and visual in our description than to say “the sun rays passed between my fingers” – so we say “it slipped through”.

2. The Blazing Sun Mocked Me

This is an example of personification of the sun. In this metaphor, the sun isn’t a friend but a tormentor. An example of a time when it might mock a protagonist is when they’re out on a hike through the desert. The protagonist is exhausted and dehydrated, with a long way to walk in the heat of the day. Here, we might imagine the protagonist being along and feeling as if the sun is their only company. But the heat means it isn’t a friend but an enemy, mocking you as you try to escape its heat.

Related: A List of Summer Metaphors, Similes and Idioms

3. It Peeked Through the Clouds

We use this metaphor for the moon as well. Imagine the clouds obscuring the sun’s view, but as the clouds part, it seems like it “peeks out” at you to take a look. This is another example of personification. Of course, an object without personality or a brain can’t take a peek at anything. But this personification helps us to create an image in our minds.

This metaphor can be used at the end of a storm to show the end of the storm and the return to better weather.

4. It is a Golden Coin

When I took college classes in creative writing, my professor shared a book he wrote, and it opened with the line: “the sun flipped a golden coin”. I’ve always remembered it and banked this in my mind as a great way to start a story. Others have had their own adaptations of this, such as calling the sun a golden orb or medallion in the sky ( See Also: Sky Metaphors ).

5. The Sun Chased away the Clouds

Here again we have personification. Of course an inanimate object can’t chase anything or anyone! But what is happening here is the description of the changes in the weather as a battle between different elements. The clouds are being chased like a sheepdog chases sheep, to return to its rightful position as the top dog in the skies.

6. It Stood Watch over its Realm / Looked over You

We can imagine the sun being the ruler over us. It sits so far overhead and is visible from just about anywhere you are (so long as you’re outside). It almost feels like it’s watching us constantly, standing guard. Again, this is of course personification – it doesn’t really do any watching at all! If we were to consider it to be like a god , we can imagine it’s watching us and passing judgement on us all day long.

7. It Smiled Upon Me

This one is another more positive, upbeat metaphor. The idea that you are being smiled at from above gives you a sense that you’re blessed and cared for throughout your day. This might be a metaphor you use if you feel as if you’ve had a lucky day or got some good news today. You can’t imagine using this metaphor when you’re going through hardship or feeling the punishing heat of rays on your skin.

8. The Sun’s Yolk

This metaphor calls the sun an egg! It may sound absurd, but if you look at it, it looks like a yolk from the inside of an egg. You might write “the yolk of the sun” as a metaphor to describe it, for example. This is your classic straight-up metaphor where you are directly calling one thing something else.

Sunrise Metaphors and Similes

9. god’s morning star.

This is a metaphor you might want to use if you’re writing a story from a religious perspective. To wake to “God’s morning star” is to see God in nature – be it a Christian, Muslim or Buddhist God, or even simply a pantheist . It might be seen as a moment to reflect on God, the beauty of the world, or even a moment for quiet prayer before eating.

The character might be waking feeling blessed, or even, feeling as if they’re downtrodden but continue to sustain their faith in their religion.

The sun is quite literally a star , so this is borderline figurative or literal (also depending on you believe in God!).

Related: A List of 19 Light Metaphors

10. The Sunrise Greeted me in the Morning

I love this metaphor. I can imagine someone pulling open the curtains and feeling joyful about their day ahead. When the curtains open, the sun is revealed – shining big and bright right back at the protagonist. The sun is a symbol of the person’s mood and greets or “welcomes” you to a day you’re looking forward. Here, it is being personified, which means you’re giving human features to non-human things.

   Related Sun, Moon, Sky and Stars Articles:

• Red Sky Symbolism
• Sunrise Symbolism
• Sunset Symbolism
• Morning Symbolism
• Harvest Moon Symbolism
• Orange Sky Symbolism
• Sun and Sunrise Sayings
• Morning Star Symbolism
• Symbolism of the Sun
• Night Symbolism
• Darkness Symbolism

Sunset Metaphors and Similes

11. the sun succumbed to the moon.

This is a description you might use at the end of the day as night falls. Here, we can imagine the sun and moon taking shifts (there’s another metaphor for you!). They swap each 12 hours, almost like they’re in an unending battle. Here, the sun is the loser, succumbing to the moon (or night), to “retreat” through night.

12. It went to Bed

This is a metaphor to explain the coming of the night. Just as we go to bed, we can also imagine that orb in the sky going to sleep for the night. We shape the patterns of our lives around the night and day, so it makes sense for us to project some of our behaviors back onto the sun itself. This, again, is a form of personification where it’s being given the trait of an animal or human – the idea of going to bed!

Read Also: A List of Nature Idioms and Nature Metaphors

Colors to Describe the Sun

• Yellow – This is probably the most common color that comes to mind. On a clear day in the middle of the day, we’d expect its color to be yellow.
• Amber – This is the color you might expect to see during dusk or early in the morning.
• Copper – We’ll often use “copper” as an adjective in creative descriptions, such as “the scorching copper sun”.
• Honeycomb – This is the color you might experience in a certain ambiance, such as in a forest where the rays slip through the leaves and spot the forest surface with honeycomb colors and patterns.
• Golden – Like Amber, we might use this descriptive color when the atmosphere is thick at dawn or dusk.

Adjectives to Describe the Sun

• Blazing – A term you might use on a particularly hot day.
• Flaming – Similar to blazing – for hot days.
• Glowing – A good term for sunrise or sunset when there is a golden color in the air.
• Shining – A good term for the middle of the day.
• Scorching – Another one for hot days.
• Scolding – Again, this adjective describes the heat of the day.
• Licking – When you can feel rays dancing on your skin.
• Tickling  – Similar to licking.

Sun metaphors can help enhance your writing and make it more descriptive. Aim to create an image in your reader’s mind by using adjectives and colors that match the mood you are trying to set. You can use different metaphors or idioms for different times of day or moods of your protagonists.

Other metaphors you can use in your writing to enrich it include happiness metaphors and fear metaphors.

I’m Chris and I run this website – a resource about symbolism, metaphors, idioms, and a whole lot more! Thanks for dropping by.

A Guide to Morning Journaling + 50 Prompts

Morning journaling is a powerful practice that can help to start your day off on the right foot. Not only does it give you a chance to process any thoughts or emotions that may be weighing on you, but it can also help you to clarify your goals and intentions for the day ahead. Whether you’re new to journaling or have been doing it for years, this guide is designed to provide you with 50 thought-provoking prompts that you can use to kickstart your morning journaling routine. So grab a pen and paper, find a quiet spot, and let’s get started!

What is morning journaling?

Morning journaling is a practice of writing down your thoughts, feelings, and ideas every morning. It is a self-reflective tool that allows you to start your day with a clear mind and set intentions for the day ahead. This practice can help you boost your creativity, gain clarity on your goals, and release any negative emotions that may be holding you back.

To begin morning journaling, set aside a few minutes each morning to write down your thoughts and feelings. You may choose to write about your dreams, your plans for the day, or anything else that comes to mind. You can also ask yourself questions such as “What am I grateful for today?” or “What can I do to make today a great day?”.

The key to successful morning journaling is consistency. Make it a habit to write every morning, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Over time, you’ll notice that morning journaling becomes a valuable part of your daily routine.

Benefits of morning journaling

Morning journaling is a powerful tool that can help people in numerous ways. One of the most significant benefits is that journaling allows individuals to clarify their thoughts and emotions, providing a sense of calm and focus at the start of the day. Writing down goals and priorities can also help individuals stay motivated and focused, leading to greater productivity throughout the day.

Journaling can also be a tool for reflection and self-discovery. By reflecting on past experiences and emotions, individuals can gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the world around them. This can lead to increased self-awareness and improved mental health.

Additionally, morning journaling can serve as a creative outlet for those who enjoy writing or drawing, allowing them to express themselves in a safe and private space. It can also be a form of gratitude practice, encouraging individuals to focus on the positive aspects of their lives and start their day with a positive mindset.

Overall, morning journaling is a simple yet powerful habit that can provide numerous benefits for individuals seeking to improve their mental health and overall well-being.

How to Get Started with morning journaling

Morning journaling is a powerful tool that can help you organize your thoughts, boost your creativity and set the tone for the day ahead. Here are some steps you can follow to get started with morning journaling:

1. Set aside a specific time to journal every morning. This could be right after you wake up or during breakfast.

2. Choose a designated journal or notebook for your morning writing.

3. Begin by writing down your thoughts, feelings, and any dreams or goals you might have for the day. Don’t worry about making your writing perfect, just focus on getting your thoughts down on paper.

4. Consider using prompts to guide your writing. You can find prompts online or create your own based on your personal interests and goals.

5. Try to make morning journaling a consistent habit. By setting aside time every morning to write, you’ll begin to see the positive benefits of this practice.

Some Practical Tips for morning journaling

Morning journaling can be a powerful tool for setting the tone of your day and cultivating self-awareness. Here are some practical tips and instructions to get started:

1. Set aside a consistent time and place each morning for journaling. This can help establish a routine and make it easier to prioritize journaling as a daily habit.

2. Choose a journal that you love and feel inspired to write in. Consider investing in a quality notebook or journal with thick, sturdy pages that won’t bleed through.

3. Begin each journal entry with a reflection on your current mental and emotional state. This can help you identify patterns and triggers for stress or anxiety.

4. Practice gratitude by listing a few things you are thankful for each day. This can help shift your mindset towards positivity and abundance.

5. Write down your goals and intentions for the day. This can help you stay focused and motivated throughout the day.

6. End each entry with a positive affirmation or mantra. This can help cultivate a sense of self-love and confidence.

Remember, morning journaling is a personal practice and there are no rules or right or wrong ways to do it. The most important thing is to make it a consistent habit and allow yourself time and space to reflect and grow.

25 Helpful morning journaling Prompts

Introduction: Morning journaling is a great way to start your day off on the right foot. By setting intentions, reflecting on the previous day, and expressing gratitude, you can improve your overall well-being and productivity.

25 Journaling Prompts for Morning Journaling:

1. What are three things you are grateful for today? 2. What did you dream about last night? 3. How can you make today a positive and productive day? 4. What are your top three priorities for the day? 5. Who are three people you appreciate and why? 6. What are you most excited about today? 7. What are your biggest challenges today and how can you overcome them? 8. What is one thing you can do today to improve your health and wellness? 9. What is one thing you love about yourself? 10. What is one thing you can do today to show kindness to someone? 11. What is one personal goal you have for the day? 12. How can you make the most of your time today? 13. What is one thing you can learn or improve on today? 14. What is one thing you are afraid of and how can you overcome it? 15. How can you make someone else’s day better? 16. What is one thing you can do to relieve stress today? 17. What is one thing you can do to cultivate joy and happiness today? 18. How can you be more present in the moment today? 19. What is one thing you can do to show appreciation for your life today? 20. What is one thing you can do to improve your personal relationships today? 21. What is one thing you are looking forward to today? 22. How can you make the most out of your work or school day today? 23. What is one thing you can do to improve your financial situation today? 24. What is one thing you can do to step outside of your comfort zone today? 25. How can you create more positivity and light in the world today?

Don’t miss our ultimate list of journal prompts .

Get Started on Your Journaling Journey

In conclusion, starting a morning journaling practice can have a profound impact on our daily lives. Whether we use it as a tool for self-reflection, goal-setting or creative expression, journaling can help us gain clarity, stay focused and manage stress. By following the tips and prompts outlined in this blog post, we can establish a consistent and meaningful journaling routine that supports our personal growth and well-being. So, grab a notebook, a pen and start exploring the power of morning journaling today!

Brooks Manley

Creative Primer  is a resource on all things journaling, creativity, and productivity. We’ll help you produce better ideas, get more done, and live a more effective life.

My name is Brooks. I do a ton of journaling, like to think I’m a creative (jury’s out), and spend a lot of time thinking about productivity. I hope these resources and product recommendations serve you well. Reach out if you ever want to chat or let me know about a journal I need to check out!

Here’s my favorite journal for 2024: 

Gratitude Journal Prompts Mindfulness Journal Prompts Journal Prompts for Anxiety Reflective Journal Prompts Healing Journal Prompts Cognitive Behavioral Therapy Journal Prompts Mental Health Journal Prompts ASMR Journal Prompts Manifestation Journal Prompts Self-Care Journal Prompts Morning Journal Prompts Evening Journal Prompts Self-Improvement Journal Prompts Creative Writing Journal Prompts Dream Journal Prompts Relationship Journal Prompts "What If" Journal Prompts New Year Journal Prompts Shadow Work Journal Prompts Journal Prompts for Overcoming Fear Journal Prompts for Dealing with Loss Journal Prompts for Discerning and Decision Making Travel Journal Prompts Fun Journal Prompts

A Guide to Journaling for Healing + 50 Healing Prompts

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Writers, for better or worse, enjoy musing on the art of writing almost as much as they enjoy the practice itself, with every writer having their own personal writing routine, a routine that’s as practical and productive as it is superstitious.

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David Kadavy

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Teacher, Writer, Fun-Raiser

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Search for creative inspiration

19,890 quotes, descriptions and writing prompts, 4,964 themes

spring - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing

• first day of spring
• growing vegetables
• late summer
• mild winter
• seasonal change
• spring flowers
• spring season
• Spring to summer
• Summer to autumn
• Winter to spring

We reclined into the springtime as if she were a beloved armchair, her flowers returning for another season.

As the first verse of a favourite song, spring arrived.

Spring awakens with a chatterbox of greens.

The springtime never waits upon the perfect ice-free day, yet pushes forth at first chance for the warming light of day.

Spring blossoms open from green carpet to heaven's boughs, revealing their soft hearts within.

The spring greets the skin as butterfly wings greet the air, with a gentle uplifting confidence.

The spring came with a gentle spirit, as one who realises that warming up softly often brings the best results to the heart and soul.

In the spring there are vestiges of winter, yet also the promise of warm summer days ahead.

The spring, she comes to give her bounty to all her children, setting the example that we give to one another. She sends her rain and warm wind to kiss the rich brown soils, to waken the seeds and sing to them as they grow. She blesses the skies with more of our winged brethren, from the mighty eagle to the firefly. The flowers come, each one so much more than any photograph, delicate and strong. And in this time of newness we fill our lungs to fullness and hear her urging us to run, to feel the power she gives within.

Here we are with the wild flowers rising from the earth, looking to the casual eye as weeds until they bloom. Who pays attention to their chaotic stems that twist in the joy of new life until they wear colours as bold as any festival diva? Then there they are in the air that becomes more welcoming each day, a community of colours, a feast for butterfly and bee.

From the mud come flowers as golden as sunshine, as fluid as rain. They come at first in ones and twos, yet soon they are the most buoyant of crowds, happily dancing in the wind.

No more the bare wands that told of winter's magic, here come the green flags, the parade of spring in bright bloom. The chorus of the skies has has called forth the promise of the earth and sunshine combined. These weeks will be as a developing photograph - the colours deepening with the richness of the season. The rain will wash warmer over each face, a freshness to open each budding smile.

There is a playfulness in nature, in the skies, woodland and soil. The time of plenty is coming and the joy of coming abundance energizes the air. In rain or shine, there is a new warmth, inviting the lips to smile. The greenness of the grass is soon to be echoed by the trees, while the flowers promise their rainbow garland to our Earth.

I have never seen blooms that appeared to kiss the sky so boldly as those scarlet tulips. They raised themselves from the earth as if they were some magic trick turning the timid earth into steady and brilliant flames.

The early morning sunlight, soft and diffuse, gives way to the first strong rays of the day, the ones that bring true warmth. In this light, water evaporates in slow waves, waves that eddy in the gentle breeze, flowing upward to white-puffed clouds, ships of white in the blue above. The opera from the trees becomes all the more powerful, as if these golden rays are their conductor's wand, and together they are the song that calls forth the spring.

A female blackbird hops on the newly defrosted grass, her deep brown legs matching the soil below. She has feathers the colour of every tree, of every wisp of wood that promises life to come. There is something in the way she moves, a joy, as she relishes the season change. The air is cool, but she can feel the promise of warmth within.

After so long without it I am surprised by the warmth in the sun's rays. No longer does it leach my heat but instead it gives to me. Once more my breaths are quite invisible and the birds are more active in the sky. Still cloud lingers but today it is not a dense layer of grey but instead a chaotic array of white puffy shapes amid the blue. I stretch out my hands and tilt my face upward. This sun is not enough to burn - even for me - and whilst it has the first lick of summer about it I put that out of my mind. Savouring the moment is important, tomorrow isn't guaranteed to anyone, not even me.

Found in Darwin's Ghost - first draft , authored by daisy .

The spring washed in like the tide, advancing confidently with warmth and white sunshine one day and retreating the next. On some days the new vibrant hues of the pansies and daffodils were bathed in tepid air that encouraged them gently, on others the wintry wind gusted fiercely - demanding a return to the bitterness of the months before. But like the tide, the spring would not be stopped, it pushed on right into May, banishing the chill to memory. By then the birds were busy with feeding the never ending appetites of chicks and the cats prowled the hospital grounds in the hopes that one might fall. Sometimes the rain would fall gently, and other-times lash at the windows of the ward, but its iciness was quite gone. It was on one of these warm but wet mornings that Mac finally got his discharge - reaching forward with his left leg and clacking down the cane in his right hand. Recovery had been slow, but his memory was quite restored.

The previously denuded branches offered their wands of tight green bud to the brilliant rays of spring. The wind had lost its bite, it had become ambient, congenial, blowing branches and tousling the hair of pedestrians - but no longer stealing their warmth. From the gardens waved the precocious yellow bloom of the daffodils, and should Simon be drawn into the woodland today there were bluebells too. He tilted his head toward the sky to feel the new heat in the sunlight's kiss. How he had missed it in these long grey London months. The only clouds were fluffy, white and quite dispersed, there would be no rain today.

Under the gentle spring sun its rays warm my skin - like kisses from the divine. The nascent leaves have that soft green and the ground is scattered with vivid blooms whose petals dance in the breeze. I love spring. I could drink it up like a tonic. Instead I spread my fingers wide and fan them though the damp air - like I did when I was a kid trying to fly, only now it's just something that makes me smirk. Birds above flit from branch to branch, letting out their sweet melody. If this day was a beautiful restaurant dish it would be a fresh salad with feta cheese and olives. If it was a drink it would be a chilled glass of white wine. But I prefer to think of it as music, and so with each step I hear the Beetles "All you need is love, love, love is all you need..."

On the plains there were years in which old man winter refused to give up without a fight. Spring would ride in on a gentle breeze, unhindered by any hill. This April air would soothe the embattled flora with its sweet promise of the warmth to come, only to be pushed back by bitter gales and hail. But the spring was patient, always returning in the calm between each storm and each time expanding until it had ebbed out the frigid blasts entirely. Then for some months it rained down both water and soft heat. Some days could still be a blanket of cloud, like the season passed, but mostly they were sporadic and sparse - allowing the brilliant light to strike the fields unhindered. Soon the fields were not brown at all, but swathes of waving green. Always we were in an ocean of white, brown, green or gold, but it was the green I liked best - green stretching way up the mountains in the far north and to the blue of the sky in the south.

These are the days where there is light under the dark. These are the days where the green grass grows fast through the cracks and there is laughter beneath cloudy skies. The sidewalk may be cold, yet every foot is dry. Even when the night calls street-lamps stand tall, arching over the silvery road, illuminating the way. These are the days when flowers are the jewels of the new season. These are the days we grow strong.

On tiptoes I reached up to the window ledge, eyes wide, hoping to see the first shoots of spring. Just yesterday I sat with mama - her, me, mud, newspaper and beans. We made little pots using our hands, the black and white strips becoming something new, something capable of holding new life. Oddly, once the soil was inside they became more stable, like proper pots. We stood them in a tray, added a bean to each and water too. She said to be patient, there is nothing yet, but I know every morning will be the same, standing here on tip toes until they grow tall enough to be planted in our garden.

The newest leaves of the holly tree come with full blush at the tips, yet to take on the strong green of their more mature peers.

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Writing Tips Oasis - A website dedicated to helping writers to write and publish books.

10 Words to Describe a Summer Morning

By Ali Dixon

Your novel will no doubt have some scenes set in the morning. Do you need some help in illustrating this part of the day? We’ve included 10 words to describe a summer morning for you below.

Giving out a moderate amount of heat ; having a tone or color that imparts heat.

“The morning was  warm  and welcoming, and as the sun rose over the hill, it cast an orange glow on everything around them.”

“They set out for their hike early in the  warm  morning so that they would be back by late afternoon.”

How It Adds Description

Summer mornings tend to be warm, making this a good word to describe the morning in your story. Warmth is usually pleasant, so this is a good way to set up that your characters are about to have an equally pleasant day.

Radiating light ; beautiful; sunny.

“It was a clear,  bright  morning that promised a beautiful day.”

“She’d had a bad sleep, but as she looked out at the  bright  morning, she couldn’t help but feel hopeful about what was to come next.”

As the sun rises over the world in your story, it’s going to make everything look bright. This brightness can reflect an overall positive feeling in your story, which is something that can bring your character peace or that you can subvert later.

Reflecting beams of light .

“It was a  radiant  summer morning with the sun casting orange light upon everything in the town.”

“As he gazed out at the  radiant  morning that summer day, he knew that something amazing was sure to happen.”

If you want to emphasize just how beautiful the summer morning in your story is, this is a great word to use . Something that is radiant can be literally radiating light, or it can be a word that’s used to show how vivid or glowing something is.

4. Cheerful

Marked by happiness ; full of good spirit; likely to get rid of gloom or worry.

“Even though the day before had been long and hard, the bright and  cheerful  sunny morning lifted everyone’s spirits.”

“Eventually, the stars began to disappear, revealing a lovely and  cheerful  summer morning.”

While the morning itself can’t feel any happiness, using the word cheerful to describe it can show how it might make a character in your story feel. If your character had a rough time the day before, a cheerful summer morning can help to get rid of any sadness they may be feeling.

5. Pleasant

Having qualities that provide pleasure ; having a pleasing appearance or manner.

“The family woke up early that  pleasant  summer morning so that they could watch the sunrise and get the most out of their day.”

“The morning was a  pleasant  one, and she felt confident that the rest of the day would be a good one too.”

A sunny, summer morning is rarely not a pleasant thing. The word pleasant implies a contentedness, and describing the morning as pleasant in your story can also be a way to reflect any inner peace your characters may have.

Having no clouds ; luminous or bright; serene and without trouble.

“The sun rose in the  clear , cloudless sky.”

“Still in bed, he looked out the window at the  clear  summer morning that was waiting for him to get out and enjoy it.”

A cloudless and clear summer morning can be a beautiful thing, especially if there have been a lot of clouds in the sky recently. A morning that is clear is also one that is peaceful and serene, which could be particularly desirable to your character.

7. Tranquil

Free from agitation ; quiet and peaceful; having no turmoil.

“He woke up early on a  tranquil  summer morning so he could go for a walk through the garden without having to worry about being disturbed.”

“Birds chirped in the  tranquil  morning and brought her a kind of peace that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.”

Summer mornings can be filled with a lot of movement and activity, but they can also be quite calm and pleasant. Use the word tranquil to describe a quiet summer morning that brings about a lot of peace.

Having no noise ; free of sound or uproar; having no or very little motion or activity.

“Aside from the sound of birds, the early summer morning was completely  quiet .”

“She stepped out of the door and into the  quiet  summer morning, ready to begin her exploration.”

Using the word quiet to describe the morning in your story can help emphasize any peaceful feelings. The word quiet can also help add tension. If the morning is a little too quiet, this can set both your characters and your readers on edge.

Lacking in motion ; subdued or calmed.

“The morning was so  still  and quiet, she almost didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind her.”

“The summer morning air was peaceful and  still , and for the first time in a while, he felt completely relaxed.”

If there is not a lot of activity on the summer morning in question and you want to impart that to readers, this is a good word to use. Much like the word quiet, you can also use it as a way to build unease, as the morning may feel too still.

Alert and energetic ; full of movement or life; brilliant or fresh.

“Although it was still early, the summer morning was turning out to be a  lively  one, and everyone wanted to get started on their activities as soon as possible.”

“The morning was a  lively  one, and soon the sound of laughter and chatter filled the air.”

Is the morning in your story a super energetic one? A beautiful summer morning can inspire a lot of activity and fun. Use the word lively to impart to your readers just how much fun your characters are having.