Oh mornings, the smell of fresh grass, the chirping of the birds, the quiet stillness that blankets the land, the blast furnace of heat that hits you in the face when you step outside.
Yes, that’s what happens when you walk out your front door starting in the month of May in the Southwest. Of course, in the morning it’s a tad cooler than say eleven o’clock, but you only have about an hour or two window of opportunity to enjoy the temperature, before it climbs to miserable.
When I was flying for a living, I always wondered why I saw so many people jogging at four in the morning. Now I know. It’s the only time it’s cool enough to do so. Can you tell I’m not looking forward to summer?
I’m going to have to make peace with mornings if I want to get outside into the big ‘blue’ room. This is a difficult prospect for a NON-morning person. It feels downright unnatural.
May 17th, 2004
