I considered calling this Slow Mornings—but our mornings are anything but slow. As we approach the winter solstice, the days are short and the nights stretch long. We wake up in what feels like the dead of night. The stars are still scattered across the sky, and dawn is nowhere in sight. The first thing I do is switch on the Christmas tree lights and the twinkling strands around the window. Recently, I’ve started lighting a couple of tall candles to set on the table, softening the harshness of the cold, dark morning.

Most days, we listen to music. Today it was Ingrid Michaelson’s Songs for the Season. Breakfast is simple: either an egg or porridge. My teenage son is less enthusiastic—he’ll reluctantly sip a small glass of water, and I remind myself not to worry too much; I didn’t love breakfast at his age either.

Once hair is styled—gelled, braided, or teased into place—and bags are packed, the kids head off to school. It’s still about another hour until sunrise and I’m lucky enough to have a beautiful panoramic view of the sky as l work. This month’s sunrises have been nothing short of breathtaking. From crisp purple hues to intense red tendrils arching across the sky. As much as its beautiful, l’m ready for the light to return.