Jon

Yesterday morning, I was walking to Vivace for a coffee before getting on the bus. I do this every morning, at six twenty-five, plus or minus five minutes.

The sky was that deep blue it reaches just at dawn, bringing color to the morning. I heard some birds chirping, and a garbage truck groaning in the alley, several blocks away. Some cars passed by on a nearby road. But still, for the city, it was quiet. Peaceful. I was alone, content for a block and a half to be absorbed by my thoughts.

Which were, and I quote, "You know... I think this is my favorite time of the day."

Which brought me to a full stop, quite suddenly. After all, this is morning we're talking about. Early morning, before it's really light outside. Before the dry cleaners is open. When respectable people have been in bed for ninety minutes or so, and have five or six hours of sleep ahead of them.

Sometime, without noticing it, I passed the day when I became an old man. "I'm too young for this," I thought, but that didn't make it any less true.

I've made my peace with it: dawn may be my favorite time of the day, but I like twilight nearly as much. And it's totally okay to sleep 'til noon, too. Just because the dawn is my favorite doesn't mean I have to see it all the time. It's more like a favorite movie that I pull out and watch once in a while, right?

Right?