By dawn's early light

I am an early riser. Whether from inborn inclination or the fact that my mother made us get up early so we'd be on time either for school or to work at my dad's store, I don't know. I've done it for so long that rising after 7 is anathema to me. At that point, half the day is gone, or so it seems.

So I love summer when the dawn is early, like me. I love it when the night doesn't fall until I really want to go to bed. I remember watching Silence of the Lambs in a hotel room in Seattle one June. We'd got the kids to sleep finally ("but it's still light!") and settled in for the movie. Good thing it was light when we started it or I might have chickened out.

Later, in Anchorage over the summer solstice, we arrived at the bed and breakfast at 10:30 pm. The sun hadn't even set. What kind of heaven was this? We went straight to bed, only to awaken to gray skies. How unusual--we'd slept all night the first night of a trip. Uh, no. Read the clock: 2:30. The hostess told us the next morning that some guests would drag the mattress into the large walk-in closet for the first night so it would be dark enough to sleep. We adjusted, but I never lost my sense of wonder.

So between daylight savings time giving me more light in the evening and Nature doing the rest in the morning, I've been quite happy. I rise at 5:45, feed the inside cats, put the coffee on (notice the order in which things are done), and then feed the outside cat. Said cat has picked up a few hangers-on, so the patio has looked more like a lounge than anything else a few times. But it's been light and I've been able to count the whiskers and tails.

Alas, that is ending. Near 6 in the morning now, post-solstice, is creeping to dark again. Hmmm...

In my corner though is good news. I don't lose daylight savings time this year until November and then, while I lose my night hour, I'll get my dawn light back again.