The 6am club

Friday, April 10, 2015

pointer puppy on a story beach

Long before the alarm trills, I'm easing myself out of bed, tiptoeing across the landing and prising the dog from his blankets.

My leggings feel damp, but I know the silky-coolness is just a trick to my warm, sleepy skin. I can stretch, shrug my shoulders and zip up my thin jacket, before pulling on the shoes that feel like slippers, though can carry me miles further. 

In the depths of winter I don my torch, less to light my way but strapped to my head like a personal lighthouse; a warning light to the cyclist commuters, preventing them from careering into my slow-moving tug-boat as they speed through the waves of darkness towards the office. 

It's a magical time of day. Kinder than pre-dawn, yet safer than dusk, I find myself comfortable and able to breathe. The air is still cold and still, sitting low to the ground, yet to be whisked into a frenzy by the traffic. Sometimes there's a mist, into which my four-legged companion disappears as he spots our early-riser mascot - the dawn rabbit. 

It feels like a secret - you get to peek at the day before the rest around you. To join, it's easy - take your time, to breathe, to wonder, and enjoy. Feel the quietness and relaxed air of beginning around you and use it to charge up your reserves for the rest of the day. For when you settle down later that evening, you'll know that you were part of a world many take for granted, miss and resent. It's an elusive club, membership held only by a few.

Photo and Text by Laura. This post first appeared on The Mrs Makes on 13.08.14 and is reposted here with permission. 

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