I took my run at dawn today, for a change of pace. I left my tunes at home, anticipating the quiet meditative stillness of the early morning.
I felt the sunrise, even if I couldn’t see it beyond the thick grey skies.
It’s a very big difference between being up at dawn and being out at dawn. Anyone can stop for a sunset, but the power and energy of the day’s birth is unmatched. And when you experience it yourself, you just know you are smack dab in the middle of a miracle.
Irrigation systems sputtered to life to make up for the weatherman’s empty promise of rain over the weekend. Water rushed through the drainage grates underneath the street. Bunnies dashed across my path in a panic to get home before curfew. The rhythmic droning of the frogs by the lake was a pleasant noise that carried me away to my childhood summer camp.
But the birds…
The birds were deafening – like a hair salon full of Central Jersey women tripped out on caffeine, nicotine, and bad manners, twittering away loudly in a fruitless effort to be heard above the rest. Seriously. It was a little bit crazy out there.
The miles passed quickly and effortlessly under my feet, and I was barely winded by the end of the 4.5-mile jaunt.
The birds quieted down as the hour grew later – they surely must have been all gossiped out and exhausted.
I was not exhausted at all, but filled up with joy and invigoration that only the new day brings.
Hope I get to do that much more often.