sunrise.

5:00am.  Snooze.

5:10am.  Snooze.  Smile.

5:20am.  Snooze.  Smile.  Sit up.

I put on some shorts and my runners this morning, then rubbed my eyes and lay back down to wait for the 5:30am alarm to go off.  Too often I forget I hit snooze and then changed my mind and leave before the alarm goes off again.  I waited.  When it went off I sipped some water and left the apartment, determined to get some exercise before the city was too hot to deal with.

I stretched on the front stairs.  I raised my hands above my head and breathed in deep.  What I love about the Glebe is the old trees.  It’s like they stuck houses in among the nature and live there peacefully with it.  They don’t have sprawling lawns covered in fertilizer and weed chemicals.  They don’t take up unnecessary room so they can have big backyards with built in kitchens and pools and saunas.  I guess that’s how it was 100 years ago when all this was built.

I walked down the street toward the canal, smiling at everyone I saw.  Surprising number of people up at this hour; delivering papers, walking dogs, doing what I was doing: sweating before work.  I got to the end of the road and looked across the canal.  The sun was just starting to rise directly in front of me.  The sky was all pink and lighting up the clouds over the trees.  It was doing that great streamer-like thing where stripes of orange and pink were fading into the blue above it.  I was so glad I got out of bed.

I ran around for about 30 minutes, nodding and saying "Morning" to everyone I passed.  Except for the homeless man who was sleeping on the bench I passed.  He looked too tired for pleasantries.  I ran through some sprinklers watering the lovely gardens that line the water.  I stopped and said hello to some geese and ducks swimming around, catching breakfast.  Then I ran up to Bank and walked home watching the coffee shops set up their patio furniture and greet their first customers.

It’s good to be alive, isn’t it?  This July is going to be magic.  So much to be thankful for.