Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Early Riser

I've always been an early riser. When I retired I thought that might change, but it hasn't. I'm still up before daylight every day. The first thing I do every morning is go outside, into the back yard, with the two dogs - rain or shine. This morning, standing out there, I did what I always do, breathe deeply, gaze at the night sky, listen to the sounds of the morning, and feel thankful for my home, my place in the world, my wonderful life. This morning the sky was full of stars after the drenching rains we've had for the last several days. The air was damp and sweet, with a hint of the tangy ocean - only a mile away. The garbage trucks were clanging and humming through the streets. I could see iris buds swelling in my garden, saved for another day by the heroic actions of my little Django pup. This week he caught and valiantly dispatched an enormous gopher with long, curving yellow teeth. While he and the gopher were dancing at each other, I called for Zuma, our rat terrier, thinking that she would know what to do. She took one look at the situation and then backed away primly, shivering with fear and disgust. Her "ratter nature" did not kick in, but Django managed on his own, to save the day!

While I stood there this morning I remembered my childhood on the farm, where the early rising took root in me. Nobody ever slept past 7 am in our home. My father was always up at around 5 am to go check on the sheep and turkeys, and begin the day. My mother cooked breakfast for the whole family, often baking some fresh pastry to have steaming hot when we kids got up. There were chores to do, a school bus to catch, and nobody was allowed to lie around in bed.

Now the early mornings are my most precious time - delicately fresh and quiet hours when I savor the coming day, and feel the new energy surging through my body. Yes, I'm a morning person! And this morning I'm feeling hopeful for the world.

6 comments:

Youngest Brother said...

Good Morning. Glad to see you are writing again- I've missed you. Mornings must be genetic- 5:30 is my norm. Most of my farm morning memories seem to be winter time- out in darkness in heavy clothes to help Pop with chores. The dark, scary climb up into the haymow to throw down bales- only one dim light up there. Also cleaning ashes out of the old coal furnace, putting Neatsfoot Oil on leather boots with that old yellow toothbrush. Every year we had to repair, re-varnish fly rods, and get set for the first day of fishing. It ALLWAYS poured rain. We'd leave, on our bikes, and generally started up in Teetertown, fished down past the Friars' ponds, MacArthur's Pond, and ended up down at the River Styx Inn (Led Schuyler's place) at Crestmore. Then the long ride home in wet boots. I think you were probably taking piano lessons then. Those were the days!

Sky said...

this was such a lovely post - the images of your day taking on a life in words. i am a morning person only if i have stayed up all night! i do love the quiet of the early morning, but i am a very late night person where the same silence lingers throughout the night. sometimes i greet the dawn as i head to bed. i especially enjoy spending a few minutes of these early mornings in my garden, as daylight begins to break the darkness. (i have hormones to thank for this strange disruption to my sleep.)

i wish your pup would come get rid of our mole! we are sick of his digging up our gardens!

Lulu Maude said...

What a gorgeous spirit you have!

മനു സി കുമാര്‍ said...

mizzle of memories, thats nice
tune of shots, thats nice
resonance of events, thats nice
a nice post
- an undisclosed unknown

TaraDharma said...

a grand description of your morning. i, too, have been light on the bloggin, but for now I'm back.

i love the quiet of the morning, when I can manage it. it does set the tone for the day. we live in Soquel now, with a view of hills and trees out the back, and it's lovely to drink my morning latte on the patio while listening to the bird song.

and the dogs panting, and the cats scratching, and the screeching school bus breaks on Main St., and the slow dribble of the water fountain.

Sydney said...

This is such a beautiful post and a gorgeous picture. I check here now and again and encourage you to post more, selfishly speaking, lol.