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Descriptive Essay On A Day In The Morning

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The light of the new morning sun shines through the gaps of my ivory lace curtains. I can see the almost too tiny to see specks of dust floating gracefully in the streams of light, it’s almost like the dust never moves, never settles. A quartet of petite sparrow’s perch outside my window singing a welcoming song. As I sat up in bed a waft of freshly ground coffee entices my senses. I open the curtains, look out at the frost-bitten grass, the glassy lake across the way and the white gradient fog that has engulfed the tops of the pine trees. Slipping my feet into a pair of wool-lined slippers, I grab my robe and welcome my husband, Caleb, for breakfast. We scarf down our eggs and homemade spiced apple oatmeal so we can get a head start on our day. The warmth of the heater keeps me distracted, the warmth first thing in the morning is like settling into a tub of hot water after a day in the cold; it is hard to resist. Eventually I throw on my clothes and accessorize myself with what seems like a never-ending list of winter must-haves; a long olive-green winter coat, a tan plaid scarf, a pair of wool socks that line my brown leather boots, a pair of gloves, and to top it off, a olive knitted beanie. My husband and I haul our luggage out to car that is crusted with ice. While he loads our luggage, I begin to scrape the thick sheet of ice off our windshield. I’m too much of a pansy and have to stop every 20 seconds to frantically shake my hands in order to regenerate some heat
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