Easy Like Sunday Morning

Quiet. I hear the grandfather clock ticking in the background, the hum of the refrigerator, and a solitary bird announcing the first light of the day, which slowly begins adding gray light to an otherwise dark and star-filled sky. This singing bird and I are the early birds. I’ll pass on the worm though, and settle instead for coffee. I love mornings. While I’ll admit I am sometimes envious of those who are able to sleep in on weekends, I am also grateful that I don’t miss this time of the day. It is a time that allows me to think deeply about things . . . or not, as the mood dictates. I am relaxed and there is nothing pulling at me. “Do this. No, do that. Well, do this first, then that.” Truth being, can’t do anything because the rest of the world (my world) is asleep. And I don’t want to wake this little part of my world too soon because then my calm will be disturbed.

I remember, as a child, waking up early and waiting as long as I possibly could before trotting across the street to see if my little friend was up and could come out and play. Invariably, I was the rooster providing the wakeup call. And I was not always welcome. Over time, I learned to enjoy the mornings in solitude, content with my own thoughts. It is infinitely safer than poking the bear that sleeps, and I have found my own company to be sufficiently adequate and, oftentimes, extremely amusing.  You can only imagine. I have always been a morning person (thank you, Mom!) and suspect I always will be. It is my lot in life. To quote a couple of lines from the Melissa Manchester song, It’s All in the Sky Above, which ring true for me: “Some folks go out dancing, Baby, we could dance our lives away. But I’d hate to stay out late just to oversleep the day.” Agreed. I go to bed early, not much of a partier any more. But it suits me. My day is complete because I have seen the morning.

~ jwb ~