I can’t trust morning people. Their chipper-ness makes my teeth hurt. With absolutely certainty I conclude that the whole lot of them are mere fakers. Oh, sure. I’ve heard the birds, busy at their morning chores, ‘whistling while they work.’ They remind me of my Grandma Susan (another early bird) who couldn’t sleep past 4:30 a.m., and made the best of it. Up with the sparrows, meadowlarks, doves and robins, she puttered. And hummed. She seemed glad of another day. Even as a young girl, spending the night with Grandma, I groaned when her feet hit the floor, and wondered what in the world might compel her to arise before the dawn.
And yes, I’ve seen the glorious lightening of the eastern sky. That merest sliver of blue separating the night from the day as it widens to a band of purest gold — a new beginning. A fresh promise. While it is still called today…
And of course I’ve stood under the steamy, steady pelting of that morning shower. HOW ELSE WILL I WAKE UP!?!? Quiet moments with my own thoughts, my own plans. And I’ve greeted the Maker of the morning — reminded that He’s washed me cleaner than the herbal essences drifting on the steam. I grew up with the notion that ‘the best part of waking up is Folger’s in your cup.’ While I disbelieve the Folger’s part, the rich, satisfying aroma of freshly brewed coffee… well, ‘the best part of waking up’ might just be the morning joe. With a muffin.
I imagine morning people — those chatty, smiley, annoyingly perky people whom I wholly revile — have also chirped a good morning to the cooing doves, marveled at the breaking dawn, enjoyed their morning shower and breaking the fast. Their zest for life doesn’t kick in AFTER the morning coffee, but comes ready made with their personalities or their incessant insomnia. Whatever it is, I can’t help but wish they’d be a bit more subdued about it. But, come to think of it, since we have to get up anyway, why not enjoy it? What did the morning ever do to me but bring the birds, the sunrise and the coffee???? Even this particular one, with its soft mist, heavy air, and the typical driver who can’t seem to find a proper speed for the lane he’s in — well, it’s another day of living. A new beginning. Another chance. While it’s still called today, then, be thankful for the joy of the morning.