In Cold Predawn Hours

I get up easily in the morning like a penguin flies. Especially when it's cold outside and warm in my bed with the flannel sheets, two blankets and comforter.

But, Hubby's car is in the shop for a few days. Which means I have to get my ass out of bed at dark o'clock in the morning to drive him to work. I need the car after he's gone to work.

I don't like getting up in the morning. And I really don't like getting up in the middle of the night. If it's dark out, as far as I'm concerned, that's the middle of the night.

But, once we're out on the road, it's not so bad. The roads are empty. Maybe a few cars. The ground is blanketed with a foot or so of snow. The air is crisp and it's so quiet it's almost as sound waves are frozen by the single-digit temperatures.

And at the exit ramp where Hubby gets off there's a single flame in the night. Blue or maybe orange. It's a sight to behold. (Okay, so it's the flame from the landfill... but it's still a pretty sight. And you can't see the actual landfill at night under the snow.)

Downtown, the city sleeps. The streetlamps, shining on empty streets, seem almost forbidding. You're not supposed to be here. It's time for bed.

Even the ducks, on the frozen surface of the Mill Pond, are huddled in their feathers and sleeping in a crowd.

Yesterday morning a train was sleeping right across the major crossings in town...

After my journey out in the predawn, I'm more than ready to climb back into my own pile of feathers and other warm blankets and go back to bed. I don't get up when it's dark.