This Morning's Glow.



This morning started off in the best possible way. The sun was already shining, the air was warm, and I could feel that early summer softness surrounding everything. I shared music and a movie with my stepdad over coffee—a quiet, comforting kind of joy that doesn’t need a lot of words.

I hadn’t heard from my best friend overnight like I sometimes do, but just as I was getting ready to watch our movie, she texted me. I smiled and held on to that moment, even though I didn’t reply right away. After the movie ended, I wrote her back and apologized for the late text. Then I hopped into the shower, feeling that sense of wholeness only a good morning can bring.

And all throughout—before, during, and after—it’s been glowing. That same deep, burning yellow has been all around me. So vivid it felt like it was filling the whole room, with floaters to match. Earlier this morning, between two and four, the color was a beige kind of softness, with the yellow starting to move in like early sunlight filtering through a quiet window.

It’s strange and beautiful—how these colors live inside me. How something like yellow can burn and swirl even though I’m blind. It’s like the world gives me its light in different ways, ways that feel real to me even if no one else can see them. And today, that light feels warm, and alive, and good.

 

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