This morning I woke up really early. I made a latte, bundled up, and headed out to have coffee in the aftermath of a rainy night. As it is only 3:44 as I write this, it must have been REALLY early. Sitting outside, having coffee, in the breezy cold of spring, reminded me of Seattle, the place I grew up (at least chronologically).
I realized that the cold and rain are inscribed on the walls of my soul. They are LIFE for me. As much as I love the warm sunshine, there is something about a dreary, rainy day that feeds me deeply. I’m sure some might think it crazy to wake up at 2:30 and look forward to getting outside after a good night’s rain while it is still dark, but for me it is pure joy!
I feel the same way, which I attribute to summers in New England and London.
Small person woke up at 2:30am and was giggling. I convinced him to sleep and then was up until 4:00. There’s an unmatched peacefulness to those dark hours between when the night owls nod off and the rest of the world awakens.
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