I ran late this morning, very late. I missed my train. That means I will probably have to stay later tonight. Normally, I would be highly stressed that, as I drove the road to the train station, I could see the train passing me and knew there was no way I was going to make it. But not this morning.
Today I opened my eyes and there was sunlight coming through the bedroom windows. I could see the pinks and golds of daybreak creeping up over the hill and just lay there watching the color of my walls change from soft grey to green. In the distance, I could hear the faint sounds of morning traffic, audible now since the trees and bushes have dropped their muffling greenery. I could almost believe it was the sound of the ocean. I knew I should get up and get going but in very short time, it will be dark when I get up. And dark when I get home. Monday through Friday, I will feel like a mole person. I will long for the weekends when I can wake to daylight again. So I laid there longer than I should, watching the day grow brighter, knowing the shorter days are coming, grateful for these last, few early dawns before the darkening winter morns.