For a change I was up at 4:15 this morning and instead of going back to sleep started my day there and then. Nine o'clock and I feel I have already done somethinyybodyg with the day.
Memories of early mornings entice and tease me. The early bird gets the worm. I heard that as a child and the adage exerts enormous influence even today. But I also love staying up into the wee hours and I love the deep, comforting quiet. Since quitting work at the clinic I have indulged my love for late nights but don't have much to show for the indulgence. Maybe indulgence can be excessive. I can try something else.
One of my favorite morning memories: Waking up the first morning I was in the Philippines with my sisters. April had met Merma, our eldest, and me at the airport. A family friend had an SUV. Danny drove us to Laguna where we had a lavish seafood dinner and stayed at a new Western-style hotel. Jet lag made me wake up at four just as I did this morning. I went outside to the hallway and watched the purple sky turn orange and listened to the cocks crow and church bells ring. I was a child again but with a difference. The sights and sounds that I took for granted as a child now were precious again, new old memories to cherish.
This image is from Venice when our plane laid over at the Marco Polo International Airport and Francisco and I decided to take the local bus to Venice. That photos from that trip are the only ones available to me on my laptop.
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