Secretly, I love 5.30 in the morning.
I regularly crib to anyone who listens that I have to wake up at 5.30 am to be able to pack off my son to school by 7:00 am. I whine diligently about how cold and dark it is at 5.30 am on winter mornings. How hot and hot and hot (I live in Dubai) it is on summer mornings. How by 5.30 pm I have been awake for 12 hours and really need to curl up in bed with a book as opposed to slapping on makeup and socializing. But secretly, I love 5.30 in the morning.
I love the way the air is still with the breaking of a new day. As if nature itself is holding its breath before something spectacular unfolds. I love to hear the birds chirp before honking cars and loud human voices over power them. I love to think I have a head start on everyone (sometimes even the newspaper boy). And how I have finished most household chores, the ones I care to do anyway, by 7:30 am.
Weekend 5.30 ams’ are even more special. The road to the beach is empty. The beach is empty. Even the 24 hr coffee shop attendant is yet to become bored and surly (but that could be my imagination!).
The dawn of a new day is a beautiful beginning. And even though some of my friends have threatened to call the police if I call them one more time at 6:00 am to ask if they want to hear the ocean, I continue to await the next sunrise. How can something so ‘everyday’ so ‘taken for granted’ be so awesome?
My ‘not morning people’ friends sometimes turn it around and stay awake till 5.30 am to watch the sunrise. The assure me 5.30 am is equally inspiring that way too.
What do you think?