At 4:30 a.m., I woke to the sound of rain falling steadily outside. An hour later, I was rolling myself out of bed and padding down the stairs in complete darkness.
I glanced over at the green glow above the stove.
5:30 a.m.
I turned my attention back to the vast, black expanse, reaching into a familiar corner for a shoe; instinctively tugging a long sleeve shirt off of a hanger and quietly snatching my car keys before ninja-ing my way to the garage.
No lights. No noise.
That’s how I preferred it. The first light my eyes would see would be the sun rising.
Two of us stepped out of the car and into the moist, temperate air.
The steady rain had reduced to a scattered drizzle as we moved breathlessly through sleepy streets.
Minutes later, another set of feet joined our small running group.
The road glistened under the street lamps as we navigated puddles, questionable curb heights and construction cones.
I half listened to the muted conversation taking place just in front of me; and for a moment, I allowed my eyes to close- breathing in..
..There were traces of Holly and Magnolia and Oak Leaf Hydrangea, punctuated by freshly laid mulch. Wet dirt and asphalt mingled with the warm, melting notes of rising dough and bacon.
I opened my eyes back up. Signs of life now.
Construction workers with yellow hard hats on, lunch tins in one hand, coffee cups in the other, walking to work. Cars idling at red lights.
Our running group back to two, we rounded out our 9-mile run just in time to see the sky turn from black to dark blue; dark blue to pinks and purples and light blues.
I arrived back home, half the world still asleep as I changed out of my wet clothes and sat on the floor to stretch- the yellow and gold rays pouring in through the windows.
