morning person

I don't think I've ever been mistaken for a morning person. Mind you, I have no disdain for the a.m. hours. In fact, I love to see the early morning, however, I'd prefer to do so by staying up all night rather than waking early. I'm a night owl. I love the perceived peace of a world asleep.

Despite this, I started out my week with a noble goal, an attempt to change my ways. For a week, I'd try out the life of an early bird. The challenge: to get up between 5-6a.m. for a morning run and to have a productive pre-work day. I'm not fully sure why I decided to do such a thing, but decided to commit to the goal nonetheless.

I failed. Oh, I failed, I failed, I failed. Rather than waking early, I spent an entire week unable to fall asleep until somewhere between the hours of 4-6 a.m., so unless I'm planning to change my definition of "early bird" to someone who stays up until the wee hours of the morning, I failed.

Still, there's something to be said for the early hours of morning, for the coolness of night dissipating in a morning mist, for first light, for the changing colors of the morning sky, for the air of a new day, for the sounds of the world waking up.

So here is my tribute to a time when reality was better than I remember it, rather than remembering something as better than it was. Here's to something good, to something I miss, to a reason to be up before dawn no matter how you do it.