Blog

Why I Love Coffee, Sunsets, Sunrises, and Mornings

February 27, 2018

sunrise lone woman

I grew up in a small town, Port Elgin, on the shores of Lake Huron in Ontario, Canada. Legend has it that National Geographic once declared Port Elgin’s sunsets as the second best outside of Hawaii. Most people from the town claim this honor though I have yet to meet anyone who has ever laid eyes on the article. It hardly matters, though. The town’s sunsets are unbelievably stunning. Even locals turn out in droves on the beach in the summer to stroll on the breakwalls and watch the sunset. I think one should never miss a sunset. It’s not like you can open a drawer and pull one out any time you want.

But sunrises…they’re pretty special too. I am a morning person and the best part of the morning is watching the sun rise. Lately, my daily routine changed drastically. My significant other (s.o. hereafter) has been away for most of the month staying with one of his sons while his ex-wife was with their youngest child in Mexico at Hope4Cancer, which is an alternative treatment facility. While he’s been gone I have been waking up at 3:00–wide eyed and ready to go.

Normally I get up at 4;00 to attend a 5:00 a.m. Crossfit class in town. So getting up early isn’t exactly foreign to me. Getting up at 3:00, however, seems a bit ridiculous. Still, there doesn’t seem much point in fighting it so I use the time to do things that get lost in the evening or put off when I have tomorrowitis. The floor gets an extra sweep, an extra load of laundry makes its way into the machine, I prep extra thoroughly for my classes, and so on. 

It turns out that I like getting up that early. It feels like finding a few extra hours in the day. The only problem is that I am pooped by 2:00 p.m. That’s an easy fix if I remember to go to bed early.

As a person who has lived with depression for some time, I love waking up excited about the day, feeling eager to get out of bed and start living. Sunrises are such fantastic moments of optimism. They’re about new beginnings and the unknown and freshness. Getting up super early and witnessing the sunrise with a huge mug of coffee in hand is kind of like having a secret meeting with a friend who shows up each morning to remind me that it’s a new day with no mistakes in it yet.

I’ve missed my s.o. while he’s been away. At the same time, I’m grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the quietness of the “before everyone else is awake” part of the day.

Such opportunities for quiet reflection and solitude are so rare. Where do you find yours?

One Response

  1. Early riser, hmm.

    Me too, and I thought it wa a Midwestern thing–you did not steel that from us did ya?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Articles

more from us

Bless the Bittersweet

A rickety screen door teetered on rusty hinges as I pulled it open and stepped into the tiny ante-space that introduced the kitchen. I paused, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim light as I inhaled the musty scent of things old. In the quiet, I waited for the space to speak. Who knew what had lain settled in memory’s crevices for more than half a century? Time warped as I stepped into the kitchen and looked around, surprised. It was a miniature version of the space that, moments earlier, I’d have sworn was a large farmhouse kitchen. Contradictory

Read More »

Meditation and Imagination: Warmup Rituals for Courageous Writing

“How did you end up here?” It’s what people ask foreigners or people who’ve been through tough times. The grammar offends me. What is the referent for here, exactly? This country? This town? This relationship? This trouble? This chair? On the floor? On the rise? Indefinite antecedents should be a felony. And—end? I’ve yet to meet mine. I don’t mean to be ugly, but could we at least change the verb to one less terminal? Alight, maybe, or land, though the latter sits heavy. Either trumps the alternative. Earnest or incredulous, the question in question lays track on my life’s

Read More »

Butterfly Fierce

Expectations have been my downfall, and my choices have led to predictable disappointment more than I care to admit. Perhaps that’s why it irks me to no end when the ink of a good pen runs dry prematurely. I expect more of them, frankly. Like life, so the pen writes. I wax poetic as I reach into my desk drawer to retrieve another from my stash and find disappointment. A lone red pen is all that remains. Red ink is as offensive to the page as an overcooked metaphor. I compose the hard bits in longhand. Maybe blood-colored ink isn’t

Read More »
sunrise lone woman
sunrise lone woman
sunrise lone woman
sunrise lone woman