Believe it or not I actually plan out what I intend to blog about. I find a rough outline of topics helps focus the mind and keep to schedule. Right now on my list is a trip to Westonbirt Arboretum, the reflections from my Welsh trip that I am eager to capture in writing, and musings about the ongoing craft shows. But sometimes, quite frankly, I run out of time to do justice to my subject, so it gets postponed and a filler topic goes up in its place. This is one of those times.
I am not in any way shape or form a morning person. Which is why it may surprise you to learn I get up around 5:30am so I can be at work by 7:15am. This is difficult under the best of circumstances, but it has been getting increasingly harder as we creep towards winter. The shorter days play havoc with my internal alarm system, and waking up in the dark, getting ready in the dark, and leaving the house in the dark manage to sap my already low morning energy levels.
Yet the change of clocks this past weekend has helped give me a slight reprieve. At the moment my morning commute is perfectly timed with the sunrise, and a few days ago I caught the most spectacular view from the train. The sky was a fiery orange, and the first rays of the sun were reflected within the low-lying clouds and the mist that blanketed the fields and hillsides. I immediately jumped from my aisle seat and dashed to the nearby buffet car for an unobstructed view, and I tried to capture the scene the best I could with my phone as the train sped through Wiltshire.
What’s even more incredible is that I almost missed this moment. I just happened to glance up from my morning Metro at the right time, and I can almost guarantee that it completely bypassed most of my fellow commuters. Many start the day with their heads down, reading the paper, or looking at a phone/Kindle/tablet/laptop, or sleeping. The world outside the window doesn’t get a glance. Yet this is where it’s possible to find the beauty that makes the early morning wake up call worthwhile.