Early Morning Routine
I often see the term "magic hour" on note.
It seems to be used most often in articles featuring photos of beautiful sunset skies, but the few tens of minutes before sunrise—that is, before dawn—can also be called this magic hour.
The top image I used when I wrote about "Song of Dawn" was one I took a long time ago when I watched the sunrise at the beach in Shizuoka during the summer. The intensity of the orange light I saw with my own eyes comes through well in the image.
Ideally, I would like to decorate everything with my own photos, but lately I haven't been able to take many, so I've been using photos taken by others in wordplay-based association games, or trying out AI-generated images.
I wonder if the people who took them ever imagined they would be used in such a way.
This time, I'm using Magome-juku, connected to Toson Shimazaki's "Before the Dawn," based on my recent Kiso topic.
Lately, I've made it a habit to write articles in the morning.
I just stock up on themes and phrases I think I might want to write about in my drafts, and if I can pull them together into a coherent piece on the train before I reach my station, I finish one and post it.
If I start overthinking, I get stuck in a rut, and if I do it endlessly at night, I have trouble falling asleep, so while things like yesterday happen occasionally, I basically try to do my activities in the morning.
I didn't decide to post every day on my own; I just kept throwing out things I wanted to write and things I wanted to get off my chest, and before I knew it, that's how it turned out.
Over the last two months or so, the things that were swirling in my gut have largely been poured into my writing, and I feel a sense of relief.
I feel like I've finally been able to organize the past within myself little by little. On the other hand, there are still some things I haven't figured out how to express in words.
Looking at it in the long term, I've continued for two months as the mood took me, while still holding onto the desire to make this writing something that helps me in some way.
I don't yet see a clear shape of what that "help" looks like, but I want to work on it carefully while taking breaks.
It's the latter half of November.
This morning was a step colder than it has been until yesterday.
It's the same now, but I've always found it hard to get out of bed in the winter.
There are only about forty days left this year.
Until about a month ago, I had a feeling that my concentration and attention hadn't returned, and my mind couldn't keep up with the passing of the dates.
Recently, I've started to feel a sense of impatience as I look toward the future, little by little.
I have a mix of relief that I've come this far, and anxiety about whether I can make up for lost time.
While gazing at the winter sky during the "magic hour," I let the sunlight into my body. Today, too, I will face my stubborn brain and continue my rehabilitation, aiming for a full recovery.