It’s 7:14 am at this very moment of me writing this. It’s now just turned onto 7:15. My how time flies. And my, how early I am up today.
Actually, I was up earlier. A rough night, yes so the waking up at 6:02 (am) wasn’t too much of a shock. I was thirsty, hungry and my bladder needed an empty so I thought there would be no harm in getting up since getting back to sleep looked pretty much impossible.
As I was arising from my bed, popping my feet out from the many layers of bed covers and resting them on the ground, I stopped. My blinds were closed though an attractive glow came from my window. The sun in its earlier hours of rising, just like me.
I opened my blinds.
What I experienced was beauty. Not the back trampoline and patio infested gardens but of the sights and sounds of morning.
I’m not usually a morning person, especially on a weekend or holiday. I usually stay up very late the night before and so just pay for it by not getting out of bed until very late the following morning or even the occasional afternoon!
What struck me was how beautiful morning is. There is no sign of human life anywhere. No steam coming from vents, no washing being hung, no arguments in the streets. Just the birds beginning their day by chirping merrily to one another. If I were a bird, I would happily chirp along with them, celebrating yet another day on planet Earth.
It’s just one of those moments when you stop. You stop and you reflect on life: the past, the present and the future, mostly good things because the optimism and potential in the morning air is too high to think negative things.
The mornings are so silent. Not a sound in the house apart from the occasional snore or two. Just me. Just me in this tiny little bedroom in this small flat in this gigantic world.
I ought to do it more often, getting up early in the morning. Because although I’ll end up falling asleep midday, it’s worth getting up for the feel good feeling and appreciating the Earth in all its beauty.
You can tell I’ve had a rough night, can’t you?