On being an early bird

My morning began before the sun came up. I poured a cup of coffee, watched a little television, showered, dressed, and pulled my hair back.

I put on trousers and a sweater, a very long, warm scarf and my fancy boots.

As dawn broke, I made my way down the street to catch a bus to the train station. I snapped this picture while I waited for a sign of life anywhere.

The shops weren't open yet but I could see someone stirring about in the kitchen of the Beach Garden Cafe, getting ready to start their day.

Even though it was chilly and damp outside - it is so dewy at night that moisture drips from the palm trees outside my apartment and it sounds like a mini rain shower - I left my coat at home and walked briskly down the street. I arrived 10 minutes early and waited patiently, listening to the seagulls start to rise and the sound of the waves, which were still obscured by the pre-dawn light.

By the time I caught the train to work, I was in equal parts glad to be in the company of other people and sad that my solitude had ended so abruptly.

The fog lifted and the sun shined brightly on the top of the mission as we stopped at the next station.

Here at work, my thoughts turn to the weekend past and the week ahead. My car with its blown head gasket or something more heinous waiting at the shop, my pasta experiment last night (an unmitigated disaster!) and dinner with friends the night before. There was also some hot action on my couch last night and a tremendously good night's sleep. I actually have no idea what the week ahead holds for me.

It's been a while since anyone said it, but I think I do have a semi-charmed life. And I'm really starting to enjoy early mornings. Miracles do happen!