I’ve always wanted to be a morning person… the one who jumps out of bed with a smile, ready to face the world… but I’m just not. And to compensate for this I get up most mornings around 6am. So does that make me a morning person?
There’s something so beautiful about the early morning. Maybe it’s to do with being awake while everyone else is sleeping, or that the light and the sounds are different, or it’s the start of something totally new… and nowadays I’m extremely thankful waking up to a garden on my doorstep. The early morning really is wonderful in the garden, and it brings back so many memories.
As a child I went to school two bus journeys away from where I lived. I was somewhat shy in certain situations and I’d become quite anxious thinking about having to stand at the bus stop opposite my house at 6:15am and make polite conversation while waiting for the number 11 bus to Nottingham. How could I possibly get through it while half asleep? If I survived the bus stop scenario I’d probably end up sitting next to someone on the bus and have to do the same thing for the 30 minute trip. It actually never crossed my mind at the time that most of these people probably didn’t want to talk to me anyway.
In my world I had to be prepared for the day and be ready for anything and as I was definitely not a morning person this meant getting up as early as possible and being mentally and emotionally ready.
I’d set my alarm for about 5am, have a bath (I know!! I was a strange child, but clean!) do my exercises and sometimes even sit and watch the sun rise. In the warmer months I’d even have breakfast outside, walk in the uncut grass and pick bluebells or other small flowers which I’d thread onto strings and attach to my shoes or wear around my neck which I believed was for good luck. Even as I’m writing this it sounds strange, but it was a magical, silent moment for me before the madness of the day. The moment I stepped out onto the street, I was ready and enough ‘quality’ time had passed for me to have truly woken up.
This morning behavior continued well into my adulthood. When I lived in Milan I’d be up at least two hours before going off to work giving me enough time to sit and have a coffee and brioche in my local bar. Time to compose myself, time to become a nice person, while listening to the shouts of people and the coffee cups clattering. During my time at the flat in Via Marcona I lived with a wonderful guy called Simone. We couldn’t have been more different, but we got along so well. We’d often leave our flat at the same time, but whereas I’d already been awake an hour or so, he’d usually leave his room minutes after waking, a Marlboro betwee his lips and a shot of grappa in hand before going for our morning coffee. What a fantastic friend. What wonderful years.
When I lived in London I’d regularly find myself sitting in a Soho cafe in the early hours usually after a night out. I would sometimes just sit there watching the street come to life, the cafés open, the people arrive at work as the city become a different place. At that time of day the sunlight is somehow more beautiful than any other time… it’s somehow filled with hope and beauty. And even when there is no sunshine which is often the case in England, there’s still something special about the morning.
I woke up today to see there had been much welcomed heavy rain during the night. Everything is suddenly lush in the garden and I’m sure the birds are singing louder than usual, even the flowers look more beautiful. In spring and summer here at No 19 the garden is awake so early. The birds sing continuously and you often don’t even notice them. There’s a clarity here in the early hours… a kind of purity of light and sound thats makes everything seem more beautiful, more magical than at any other time of the day. It’s like you’re truly able to see and hear.
In summer when it’s hot and the night skies are filled with shooting stars I sometimes sleep in the garden, and waking up early to that sunlight is something indescribable. I keep my camera or phone close by hoping to capture that essence, that magic, but it’s something that involves all the senses and is lost in just a picture.
Maybe we all need a quiet moment in the morning, time to ourselves to prepare for the day ahead. I think animals have got this nailed! After the excitement of breakfast Lu and the cats take their time to sit together while giving one another their space, they take in the morning sun, breathe in the air and absorb the morning.
Is anyone really naturally a morning person? Or is it something we have to learn and perfect? My neighbour Jirina is often up early preparing for her day and I support this especially when she calls me at 8am to say she’s got some cake for me! She’s a star 🍓
