Meat Loaf sang: “And wherever you are and wherever you go. There’s always gonna be some light.” That moment of light, when the sun returns from its overnight meanderings. It’s not so much the first moments of sunrise but the first moment that its catches my eyes.
I might be hiding behind the pillows trying to pretend it’s still dark. As the clock ticks there’s a moment when the pretence must end. Yes, I like a bright summer sunrise morning. Not a cloud covered sky but those sharp rays of sunshine. Laser like shining through the bedroom curtains.
The possibility of a new day is an unwritten book. It’s a time of day that shifts like sand. It could be half five, it could be six. It might be seven. Time flexes as the days go by.
Each day, as if a light bulb switches on, I’m awake. Senses alive. Greeting the new day. Emerging as if all time past existed only as a dream (fine – that is an exaggeration).
Morning persons, like me, are the nemesis of the late-night hawks. They prefer the dying embers of the day as if to wish the day never to pass. Me, I’m happy to meet the dark. Prospect of tomorrow is the best promise.
John Vincent 