It warmed up nearly 30 degrees overnight. This meant that the morning was foggy. When I went out to get the paper, the street light, a replica of the old-fashioned gas lights, glowed softly behind the neighbor’s tropical plant. Three palm-like trunks silhouetted against a yellow mist, their leaves dangling like swords.
This morning was a “special breakfast.” Croissants, son the elder’s favorite, and sweet, milky coffee, special to son the younger.
On the drive to school, the trees and bushes in the distant park glistened silver in the light of the rising sun.
Home again, I stopped at the front gate, listening to the sound of the earth awakening.