EARLY MORNING THOUGHTS

Many many years ago, back in the days of the Redvers Optimist, one of the contributors wrote a column called Early Morning Thoughts.  I remember that she blamed her being awake way too early in the day on menopause and what that does to sleep patterns.  Being as I am just a few years younger than she is this gave me something to look forward to.  Thank you Joanne; anticipation always adds to the experience!  

I liked reading what she had to say.  I can’t remember what she talked about now, but it was interesting at the time.  Maybe I acknowledged the situation as “okay, I will get less sleep but potentially I will think interesting thoughts”.  That time in my life came.  And went.  I survived.  All is good.

These days I have moved on to full blown Old Lady Mode.  I don’t know if menopause ruined my sleep patterns forever? Or does this happen to everyone?  Or is my brain so powerful it just can’t shut off?

Yeah, that’s probably it.  How would you power down a super computer?

Anyway, long story short, most of my early mornings feature at least an hour of solitude, coffee, and thinking about stuff.  It’s probably my favourite time of the day.

My mother used to tell me a similar story.  I was a teenager at the time and totally thought she was nuts.  In a perfect (teenaged) world we should be able to stay up till whenever suits us and then sleep in until noon.  She said “no”.  That her walk before 6:00 in the morning to fetch the cows in for milking was her best time of the day.  I dismissed this as the lunatic ramblings of a demented old lady (she would have been in her mid forties at the time).  This is yet another example of how my mother was right.  At this point in my life I could fill a book with the times my mother was right. 

I don’t have cows to bring in for milking (thank goodness, milking is a lot of work).  I have no doubt, though, that I would enjoy an early morning walk.  My version, in the summer time, is to wander around my yard in dew-wet grass to check out my gardens.  The warm sun, the scents of the flowers, the promise of veggies, even the cat following me around complaining about its empty food dish – it’s the perfect way to start the day.

I also have a daily adventure in the winter.  We heat our shop with a wood-burning stove that needs to be stoked on a regular basis.  We call this job ‘feeding the dragon’ and right after pushing the button on the coffee maker and feeding the dog his breakfast I suit up for the frigid walk to the shop to go feed our pet dragon.  No doubt my teenaged self would have considered this cruelty and possibly worth a report to Social Services, but for me (and I suspect my mother) it’s just a refreshing introduction to the day, and beautiful in its own right.

Sometimes the stars are brilliant in the predawn sky.  Sometimes it’s so foggy I can barely see out of the yard.  Sometimes the rime frost gives a breath-taking display of white crystals on dark trees.  Sometimes the wind is blowing at 60 mph and the snow is two feet deep.  I tend to walk faster on those days.

The satisfaction of keeping the dragon fed is just a bonus.  I like that I am doing a necessary job, I like that the fresh air is head-clearing, and I love the smell of wood smoke that follows me back to the house. 

The best part though, is that I will still have about an hour with just me, my mug of coffee, and my dog laying at my feet. 

And on a shelf across the room sits a photo of my mother, a smile on her face and an expression that I can’t help but feel says “See?  Didn’t I tell you so?”