My mind wakes up well before my body is ready to rise.
After laying in bed trying to will myself to fall back to sleep for the last hour I finally give up and head downstairs.
Disappointed and frustrated when I see the time on the stove glaring the ungodly hour of 4something.
Curling up on the couch I open my lap top and start my morning ritual of facebook 'stalking' my friends and family and playing games on the Internet which I'm horribly addicted to at the moment.
I sigh and look out of the living room window watching the light creep into the storm cloud laden sky. It is a very still morning, a very quiet morning.
As much as I hate waking well before my alarm or my puppies I discover that this time is 'my' time.
Alone with my thoughts in the morning silence, which is slowly broken by the birds as they awaken from their nighttime slumbers, I watch as the sky changes and transforms into incredible works of art that far surpass anything that hangs in art galleries around the world.
And this show..... is just for me.
I love the morning light as it slowly washes over my room, like a re-birth.
There is a freshness to the room that only comes with the dawn.
The silence is broken by a far off train whistle, making me cringe inside. I know what this means as the train fast approaches our house the whistle blaring into the stillness of the morning which sets my dogs off on a chorus of howls and yips.
Are they singing to the train or complaining of it's rude interruption of quiet?
It is then that the creeks and groans of my old house announce the awakening of the hubby which means the start of a new day.
The magic of my morning is gone but that's okay... I'll be back tomorrow.