Heading out to my car at 5:30 this morning, I am met with the cold, damp, dark silence that lies hidden, just outside my door. Cars, people, cats, birds, all are still sleeping. The moon is white and the purple night sky blankets the town, even as I throw off the covers to jump-start my day. I know we’re fully into October, yet the look and feel of early-morning, pre-dawn Fall surprises me each time. Today’s moment, wispy clouds above, drizzle spots on the sidewalk below, infuses a sense of joy and oneness. I breathe deeply, just once, inhaling the perfection of a stolen morning moment.
In the car, I turn on the radio to a lament of love gone bad. There is no pause in my reaction, I breathe deeply again, surrendering to this as fully as to the somnambulant outdoors, the rousing country/Cajun toe-tapping music and cheating-woman-done-him-wrong lyrics flowing over me just as naturally as the previous soundtrack of sleepy quietude. I sing along, bopping my early-morning unkempt hair, driving though the car-less sleepy streets, crooning, “All you ever do is bring me down,” sliding the last “down” through various notes as if I was an original member of the Mavericks, convinced of my great good fortune to be alive at this very moment, to have awoken before any reasonable person should, and to be rewarded with two such glorious moments where all is right with the world.