It is a gray, cold morning in my neck of the woods.   I stood on the loading dock at work and looked out over the scrubby landscape, the young birch and ash trees ablaze in yellow and orange. The cold air felt good  but it reminded me of what was to come.   This was a quiet, soft morning, too good a morning to be wasted at work.

I allowed my  mind  to wander back to one of  many mornings just like this.  Back to the warmth of a shared bed, back where two people created memories and how they believed mornings should be.  We have shared mornings many mornings like this, waking  up under fluffy down comforters, all warm and cozy, with lots of pillows, the sheets soft against bare skin. 

 These are the perfect mornings for long, luxurious lovemaking, being playful under the covers and losing track of time.  Mornings like this are perfect for lingering kisses, exploring hands and wicked minds, and the only sound I want to hear is a tender whisper from you in my ear, speaking passionate words of longing.  Those were times when we believed we were the only people on earth.

Let’s make the most of this morning.  Let’s cherish it all.  Because, too soon, it’ll be over. We’ll  glance at the clock  and  wonder where the time flew to.  Then, we’ll want it all back because these mornings are too rare.  Time is never on our side.

 Our lives are so busy.  We know how precious these times are, that how easily they are pushed aside by the demands of everyday life.

But not this morning.

How long has it been since I got lost in your beautiful blue eyes?  When was the last time a kiss left me breathless? It’s been too long since your fingers danced their way down my body.  Slowly, like a spider moving towrds its prey. They paint an invisable picture on my skin.  Go slowly,  I want to be devoured by you, slowly.

Why now?  Why this morning?  Because all the pieces fell into place:  you, me, time away, desire, love.  Throw in a carafe of mamosas and bagels, and we have a perfect morning.  Later I’ll pull on sweats and a ballcap and run outside for the paper.  We can spread it over the bed, have some tea,  and just be.  And later we’ll make love again.

All in its own time.

Take the time when you can.  Make the time because you should.