This morning I was awakened a few hours earlier than I've been accustomed to lately. I think the sun was shining extra clear after last night's thunderstorm and torrential rain. As I opened the door of my balcony (sounds romantic, but in full disclosure I was forced to do it because the smoke detector was going off in protest of my roommate's delicious breakfast) I felt it again: that magically transporting breeze. This time it took me to the other side of the world, to Turkey, to an early morning breakfast of tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, cheese, and olives; to the hostel owned by a sweet old lady in Pamukkale; to the anticipation of a day full of exploring ancient streets and mineral pools with friends.
In reality I'll probably have some breakfast, get tired, and take a nap (I'm hard-core committed to my "restaurant schedule") before waking up later to exercise, run some errands, and go to work. But for now the day still holds enchantment. I've been feeling quite nostalgic recently (and yet content, if that makes sense) and I'm thankful for this vivid connection to my memories this morning. The world is full of promise.