morning on Clinton street

When I actually drag myself out of bed at this hour(8:30am) I am reminded of how this must be my favourite time of day. Walking outside I breathe in the chill of the air still wet with the nighttimes embrace, and listen. There is so little noise, even at this hour(which is hardly early Michelle would remind me-she has been at work for over an hour) and there is something so comforting in that. A fresh beginnning-crisp and light.

The cobwebs from my mind are washed away with each hot sip of chai. The kitties stretch and meander around the food dish-breakfast time for all. Joggers run past the front window, healthy and motivated(I guiltily observe, as my fat rolls seem to grow as I watch them). NPR drones on in the background-the world news-depressing and linear, but I cannot seem to turn it off. It is all part of it. The smells, the sounds of home. The sun rises slowly in the east and I feel like stretching my whole body towards it-fililng myself up with the potential of this day.
At this hour-anyting seems possible.