3:45 in The Morning Early

The first day of school is stressful for everyone. There is no one in the world who can honestly say that they don’t even feel a little nervous as they walk through the doors to the first class. This year I woke up early-really early-3:45 in the morning early. At first I tried to go back to bed, but I realized that I was too antsy to do that. So, I got up and walked around my dark, lonely house. Not even my dogs got up with me. The sun had not risen yet and I could see the moon out off the glass door to my deck. I thought about watching t-v, but I decided that would ruin the perfect peace of half-night. I sat on the lazy-boy in my family room watching the moon make its journey across the night sky. There is something indescribably wonderful about being the only up in the house. I got dressed for the day around 5:30, but my family was still a couple of hours away from waking up, so I read a chapter from the novel I’d been working on, and gazed as the moon disappeared and the sun started to fill the morning with light. If you have never seen the sunrise I encourage you to set your alarm just one day, and then you can go back to sleep. It is defiantly worth seeing at least once in full consciousness. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed, but also one of the saddest. As the sun begins to hoist itself into the air, it forces the mystery of the night away. I wanted that night to last as long as possible. There is something so magical about the night that I have always loved. Watching the sun rise is sort of like watching a superhero triumph over a much lesser villain that never really had a chance: you always think that you would want the superhero to win, but when the time comes you realize it was never a fair fight. You wind up feeling sorry for the little villain and secretly hope that he wins.