There’s nothing quite like the quiet of a morning. Waking up, stretching…. wondering whether to turn back over and go back to sleep or to get the day started. And then choosing the more difficult of the two and all the rewards that come along with it.
I love mornings. Ever since I took my first photograph of a sunrise – way back when I was traveling through the Kingdom of Nepal, I knew that morning held something far more romantic and fascinating than any other time of day. I guess you could say I am a morning person. But it’s more than that. The solitude that comes from being up before most of the rest of the world. The quiet in the streets. The sounds of all the birds and animals wakening from their slumber and “catching the worm”.
And as an athlete, the ability to run out in to the streets… to get a good sweat on. To hear nothing but my own breath… sometimes frosty, sometimes just “cool” before the heat of the day. Sometimes in the fog that hangs about until burnt off by the rising sun. But always calm.
To be alone with my thoughts. Or to leave my thoughts aside and just run, or ride in a mindlessness that one almost never manages to achieve later in the day. Well that’s the ultimate. Unless of course you count sharing that time with someone else. Which would be nice too. Though different all the same.