One Sunday Morning, I drove around the country area and found this magic spot... charming red door, field basking in glorious morning sun, sparkles of morning dews, tiny spiders' artistic webs slowly emerging from the rising fog. I love morning golden hours. It's different from the afternoon light. It is fresh. It is like a butterfly in my stomach that is about to fly away. Quietly exciting. Hopeful. Magical. New mercy. New story.