I’ve always thought early morning is a special time of day. I think my admiration for it began when my sons were small. Not so small that I was still entrenched in the sleep-deprived, midnight-awakenings days but after that. Once they were at the point when everyone slept through the night and I could wake feeling somewhat rested, the curiosity began.
Back then it was more about enjoying the glorious peace of the house before the busy-ness and frantic frenzy of having three young boys began. I could collect my thoughts and finally remember those things that I was supposed to have gotten done the day before. Or the day before that. I didn’t drink coffee then so I think the only thing driving me was adrenalin, and pure momentum accumulating since they were all small, and sitting down wasn’t an option for me because I’d just fall asleep.
There was a time…
Sadly, my appreciation for this time of day waned when I was mired in corporate craziness. Then I found my 5:00 am wake-up calls an unwelcome intrusion into my already too-short time at home. No, I didn’t have much appreciation for early mornings then. Except on the rare occasion that the drive or ride into downtown Toronto offered such a quiet commute and beautiful sunrise that one couldn’t help but watch and enjoy it.
Times are much different now. There is no harrowing commute, no outside pressure telling me I’m late for something or delayed on a project. There’s just the quiet of the mountains greeting me in the morning.
There’s something so peaceful about getting up when much of the world is still quiet. My thoughts are clearer. The muddled, fabricated to-do list hasn’t yet permeated the peaceful veil of the valley waking up. I enjoy it so much that I actually do have an alarm set now, partially so I can get up and start writing when my thoughts are clearest but also because I don’t want to miss the show that Mother Earth provides us each day. And she never disappoints. Funnily, I rarely need the alarm. I’m that happy to get up and greet the day.
Today, the skies were clear, and as I looked out the sun was just beginning to reveal the tops of the mountains across the lake. Inch by inch you could see the day awakening, pulling back the cover of night from the hillsides. The lake was so still it mirrored the show on its glossy surface. And all I wanted to do was watch it.
I would never describe myself as a morning person but what this place has taught me is that I am most definitely a sunrise person. Today’s gift is more than enough to hold me over until tomorrow. When I can enjoy the show again.