Spring Mornings

I became a morning person by accident.

I used to have an hour's commute to a job which started at 8am; when I switched to a job a three minute walk away which started at 9am, I made a conscious decision not to change the time at which I got up.

It was lovely - suddenly I wasn't jolting out of bed at seven and rushing around, trying to get ready; suddenly I was making the choice to rise early, take my time preparing and spend the extra forty-odd minutes having a cup of tea and reading a book. When I left the house, I felt relaxed instead of harried.

Four or five years on, I'm still an early riser. At the moment, more than ever.

Black cat (Gizmo) basking in the sunshine

This is a beautiful morning.

Out the window, first thing, I could see a ribbon of mist running between the houses, marking the course of the river. There is sunlight and the grass and the flowers and the trees are all glistening with dew. The sky is perfectly blue. There isn't a single person to be seen.

I am itching to get out there. I can hardly wait to be fully mobile again. I'm sitting here imagining pulling my boots on and going for a walk along the riverbank or around the parks. I'm thinking about next year, when I can bundle the baby up in warm clothes and head outdoors, early, to look at the birds and the flowers and let Steve (the anti-morning person) have a nice lie in.

I'm remembering Easter holidays when I was little, visiting my grandparents in Helensburgh. They had an enormous garden filled with crocuses and pussy willows and squirrels and stripy stones they had gathered from beaches all over the world and I remember my sister and me running around and around out there, first thing, our feet getting wet with dew, while our grandmother watched us from the sun room and the rest of the family slept.

But for today, this year, I'm sitting in the bay window in the living room. Gizmo is dozing in a patch of sunlight beside me; Polly is fighting sleep as she sits on the windowsill and supervises the sparrows; the usually hyper baby is rolling around calmly beneath my belly button.

This will do. For this year, this will do.


  1. What a lovely post. I love waking up early as well, it leaves much more time to do everything that I want to during the day and I really enjoy being the only one awake in the house for an hour or two when I'm getting ready or reading for a bit. Happy Easter !

    xo, Charlie

  2. Well, cats are much more interesting than soggy grass.

  3. Love that chair! A perfect little reading spot! x

  4. As much as I love the sound of all these things, I still hate getting out of bed before 10am ;)

  5. It's always a hit with toddlers...

  6. Ha ha! A few years ago, I would have completely agreed with you.

  7. Oh this is beautiful. I am not a morning person but rarely rise later than 8am - I'm just grumpy for the first hour of the day as a rule - but we get up at 6.45 so we have an hour to get ready and eat, and we walk to work everyday which means I am usually good by the time I get to work - in fact today at 8am I was explaining the First Past the Post voting system to Mr Mac!

  8. My commute (when I'm doing it) is half an hour by bus then a half hour walk and I find it really relaxing. :-)

  9. duck in a dress23 April 2015 at 17:33

    There may well have been a year or two in the early 1980's when you were in Helensburgh and I was only across the other side of the Gare Loch! I was born in Alexandria but we lived on the peninsula in Rosneath opposite Helensburgh - we moved down south though in 1984 so sadly I don't have the accent :-( Helensburgh is gorgeous though, I have many happy memories of it too, visiting during the summer holidays and going swimming in the pool before hopping on the fairground. xx

  10. Oh wow! My memories of Helensburgh are of the park nearest my grandparents' house and a shop on a square somewhere which sold sweetie mice. I had my priorities straight. :-)


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