I woke this morning in the pitch black and waited patiently for my alarm to go off. I waited so patiently, in fact, that I fell into a vivid dream about my sister-in-law Elaine’s (non-existent) lime green blog about motherhood and baby food. I like to think of myself as having a civilized dream life. Rarely are there monsters or flying carpets roaming my subconscious.
I woke again in the dark, and threw off the covers. Quarter to seven – not a bad show from the ole’ body clock – gave me a 45 minute headstart to my day. An hour later, after one quick trip to the local pool (+ jacuzzi!) and one steaming bowl of oatmeal, wheatgerm, honey and blueberries, I had the kitchen to myself as the sun rose. Or I should say – this is England – as the clouds rose to hide the sun.
It was a happy time.
I don’t know what it is about the morning. I think it’s a blend of a very unique kind of quietness, combined with the best kind of darkness (expectant, pregnant, hopeful), and finished off with a kind of solitude that somehow never overwhelms.
The big problem with mornings is how briefly they last. The big blessing is how often they come around again.
Favorite time of day? Are you with me on mornings?