There are many people who despise mornings, who consider the only 6 allowable is 6pm (and don’t even speak to them of 5!). I may, possibly, pity those people, although I respect their dedication to the slow slothful waking process and emulate it on regular occasion.
But to miss the early morning, especially in winter, is to miss the quieting of the world – even here in the chaos of NYC. It’s to miss the slow rise of blue and pink above the ‘scape, the silhouette of bare black tree limbs and the random awakening of lights as fellow early risers reach their windows and likewise look outside…
And I sit here, with my coffee steaming in a mug, cats making quiet thumping noises as they play, and think, “all things are possible.”
