THANKFUL FRIDAY
Cindy Maddera
Wednesday morning, the alarm clock went off at 5:10 AM. I rolled over, stopped the alarm and then layed in bed for a few minutes trying to decide if I was actually going to get up. It took me a few minutes to guilt myself into crawling out of bed and donning my workout clothes. I reluctantly did a twenty five minute Asana Rebel exercise and then I put my shoes on to take Josephine for a walk. As soon as I start pulling my gym shoes out of the closet, Josephine goes berserk. Then I get her lead and harness out and lay it on the bed and she hops on and off the bed twenty times. Then she attacks me while I’m trying to tie my shoes. Once the leash and harness are secured, she turns her head around and bites down on part of the lead so she can use it to lead me to the door.
She’s the boss.
Josephine loves loves loves her walks and I feel real guilt for times I skip these walks on days when the weather is cooperating. As we made our way back from the park Wednesday morning, I heard the loudest bird song. I figured that the bird was somewhere in a tree on the same block we were on, but it was so loud that it sounded like it was right above us. I looked up into a small tree on my right and there was the tiniest bird tweeting the loudest song. It was not a bad song. It was rather lovely, actually, but it was surprisingly loud.
The littlest birds sing the prettiest songs. -The Be Good Tanyas
Later on, I did an internet hunt for this little bird. It was a tufted titmouse, a small bird that looks like a miniature cardinal. Also, it’s a fun name to say out loud. This is something I would have missed if I had decided to not guilt myself out of bed. The early morning is magic hour. The streets are quiet and dark and all the night time animals are on the move to get to their beds before sunup. We see possums and the occasional racoon. Just last week, an owl swooped down just over our heads as it made its way to tall tree. There is life in my neighborhood that can only be seen in these early hours. Sometimes, I don’t allow guilt to pull me out of bed. I give myself the rest my body seems to be craving and there are mornings where I don’t need the guilt trip to get me up and about. But on those days where I really have to talk myself into getting up, I don’t regret it.
The early morning hours are a gift.