The first hour of my day feels like a rocket rumbling under the covers…
about to take off.
Destination unknown.
Then—
beep, beep, beep.
My iPhone alarm goes off at 6 a.m.
It’s still dark outside.
Darker than usual since they pushed the clock forward.
I open the curtain.
My cat Simba is there.
We go nose to nose.
He looks surprised for a second…
then starts sniffing me.
Then he purrs.
I pet him.
I pour the coffee beans into the grinder.
You can hear it—
that shredding sound as it breaks them down.
That’s when the morning really starts.
Then I just wait.
For the coffee to pour.
For the quiet to settle.
Before anything or anyone
takes my time.
Reader question
What does your first hour look like before the world gets to you?
────────────
Subscribe
If this resonated with you, subscribe. I share reflections, sketches, and quiet moments from inside my garage studio.
Leave a Reply