Oh, What a Beautiful Morning...

I realized something fundamentally important yesterday. When people ask if I'm a morning person, I tell them no.

That, my friends, is a lie.

Well, sort of.

Usually when I think of the term "morning person," I think of those people who wake up happy. The type who jump out of bed and starting bouncing around like Tigger. Boing boing boing. The ones who almost chirp "Good morning" to everyone they see, as though this new day is going to be the Best. Thing. Ever. because it's morning already!!

I'm not that type of morning person. That type of morning person draws out the curmudgeon in me.

Yesterday I had reason to wake up early, to leave the house early, and to be out and about around the city early. And I realized that I am, after all, a morning person. Just not the Tigger type. But I enjoy the cooler air, the quietness of the streets, the utter stillness in what eventually becomes a rather noisy place. I like seeing people walk their dogs, and I like it even more when they simply nod in acknowledgement of my presence instead of engaging in the boing boing boing of "Good morning! How are you today? Isn't this day amazing? Aren't you so glad to be awake?"

I suppose, in the end, I do consider myself a type of morning person. Just the type of morning person that loves when a morning allows me to revel (just a little) in some of my hermit-like ways.