There's something wonderful to me about being the only one awake in the house. I used to stay up very late in order to accomplish this, because I grew up in a family of early risers. Now that I live with people closer to my own age, I find that early to bed, early to rise makes Claire infinitely happier. I find myself quoting Emily Bronte to myself quite frequently: "
Never you fear, at first I found it terribly annoying. "What do you mean I can't sleep past 7 anymore?" But now, it's just nice. I can clean, surf the net, write, or just... be. It's a little slice of alone time that is infinitely valuable to me. Perhaps it comes from being an only child. I had so much time to myself then. At the time it was a lonely proposition, but now I find myself craving those few moments that I can spend in the company of none but me.
Not to mention that early mornings in the Winter/Spring of California hold something wonderful and magical for me. The crisp gray skies, the calls of the crows in the ever-present eucalyptus trees, and the utter rarity of the noises other humans make. When there's so little going on, it stretches out everything into utter clarity, so you can hear as each person heads to their car to start their day, drops something two houses down, or hits their snooze alarm one more time...
This is the quiet time. Late nights on the weekends are usually filled with socializing, laughter, drinking, what have you, but Saturday morning is truly a no-man's-land of activity, and I love it. I'm especially aware that in a few weeks... well, actually in a week, I won't get to hear it's song anymore, as Faire starts up and begins to take over my life until June. So for today, I'll just enjoy it and appreciate what I have now.