Yesterday I was reminded of how much I love the very early hours of the morning. It made me wonder why I don’t get up earlier than I do each day. Right then and there, I resolved to do so. And all that happened before I was even out of bed.
It was Pete Armetta who inspired me. It was his blog post. A lovely poem about how unusually quiet the streets were; and how it was a moment to be enjoyed and savoured, while it lasted.
Can you identify with it? I can. It’s so tranquil and lovely.
The sun’s up, but the city hasn’t woken up yet. No voices. No car doors slamming shut. No engines. No trucks back firing. No dogs barking. No footsteps. No sirens. No horns. No tires screeching. No sounds of life. Not a sound. It’s absolutely still.
Don’t know about you, but It makes me want to hold my breath, because I don’t want to make a sound, either. I don’t want anything to interrupt the silence. To disturb it.
I want the moment to last much longer than a moment or two. It’s so peaceful. So soothing. So gentle.
For a while, I’m happy to stay right where I am, in bed. Doing nothing. Just laying there, listening. Listening to nothing. Just my breathing. And the soft, soft, barely discernible purring sound coming from my cats. I can’t help but smile. It’s such an absolutely perfect way to begin a day. I feel like purring, myself.
A steaming cup of coffee is the ideal accompaniment. It’s all I want, or need. A nice, warm mug of tea or a refreshing glass of orange juice will also do nicely.
Nice as it is in bed, it’s also a lovely time to be outside, even if it’s on my balcony. Bundled up in my robe. I love the fact that no one else is outside yet. That I have the city — or at least the part of it where I live — to myself. How indulgent, right? It’s also a wonderful time to go for a walk through a park, or on the beach. All that matters is, wherever you are, is all yours.
These are the times when I really love living alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to listen to anyone else talk, either. I just want to be alone, with the morning, with a new day, and my thoughts. Not that I’m thinking about anything in particular. Not that I’m thinking about work or chores or whatever else I have to get done.
Mostly my mind is wandering. Aimlessly. Really just coming into focus. Adjusting to being awake again, after a refreshing night’s sleep.
This is when I do nothing. In this minute I have nothing to do, but enjoy. This is not the time for the newspaper. Or for reading books. I don’t look at my emails, or watch the news or put the radio on. Nothing should break the spell. Nothing. Because I know, in no time at all, it will be gone. Just as if someone’s snapped their fingers or flipped a switch; and suddenly, without any warning at all, the world starts moving at its frantic pace again.
Like it was just really momentarily on pause.
(snap). It’s over.
That’s it, for another day.
Who’d want to sleep through what could otherwise be such a glorious morning ritual? It’s enough to make you look forward to tomorrow, don’t you think?