I have always been an early riser. I don't know how one becomes such but I just cannot sleep late. It may be because my mother never let me sleep past seven on weekends or maybe because my body rhythm is wired like that. And so I sit here in the early morn, before light has broken across the sky, catching up on the happenings that occurred while I was sleeping.My friend Elizabeth wrote a blog about her morning routines and rituals and how they have comforted her no matter where she has lived. I find that I, too, am comforted by my morning rituals and routines as I'm sure we all are. When I was still working, I would allow myself extra time in the morning to take a walk in the garden. When my children were still small and in school, I would wake up at least thirty minutes earlier than anyone in the house. I would make coffee, get myself a cup, and sit by the front window and watch the sun come up. It was "my" time and I treasured it.
I like walking through the house when no one else is awake. I love the smell of coffee as is brews in the pot. I wait for the first sound of the birds as they make their way to the feeders each morning. And I walk in the garden.
Sometimes, I sit on the back steps and just watch everything come to life. Sometimes, I read. But always, always, I take it slowly. I don't like to be hurried in the morning. For me, it is the best time of day.
