In the wee small hours of the morning...

I missed this.
Getting up, the house still quiet, the pale hues of dawn just starting to peak in the distance over the lake, the day not quite needing to be started yet...

Of course, I've already been up for a couple hours, half a pot of coffee is gone, & somebody has already been provided a warm breakfast, lunch packed & scooted out the door, cats are fed, dishes done...

But the day is really just beginning; the morning star still hangs in the sky; I can sit here & start over.

It's probably my favorite time of day.
I can be still.
And think.
Or not.
And watch the world come to life.
And wonder what that world holds today.

It's my creative time.
My clearest focus.
I'm the most energized; it's the best time for me to work out.
Or not.

Too often, the day gets cluttered, blustery & busy & somehow, when I finally sit down at 9pm with a nice glass of red only to remember I never lit the mandatory evening candle, I wonder what happened.
Where did the day go?
What did I actually accomplish?

In the wee small hours, the day is still.
There is no rush.
No scurrying.
No worries.
Just... stillness.
And potential.

And I like that :)