β The tea is getting cold while I listen to the world around me. Every morning is a melody. Someone is already running their errands, somewhere a car is honking, and somewhere birds are just chirping as if they are hurrying to tell me something important... πβ¨π Breathing in the cool air, I catch myself thinking: morning is always a choice. To open the day with a smile or a grunt? To immerse myself in worries or to give myself a moment to just be? To look at the familiar in a different way... or run past it without noticing? π€πΆββοΈ Every day starts the same but feels different. Today it smells fresh, rings with the sounds of the street and is a little warmer than yesterday. Or maybe it's just my mood?π Do your mornings sound loud or soft? π