I really hate to admit it, but I am NOT a morning person. When I lived in NY, I would get up at 5:30am to commute in to lower Manhattan. I would walk my dog with the sound of traffic always present, get dolled up in an Ann Taylor suit (I do miss those clothes) rush up to the train station, grab a cup of
coffee and stand on the platform with dozens of other commuters. I would watch the sun rise while crossing over the Harlem river and daydream of living in Colorado. Once at Grand Central Station, the mad dash was on with hundreds of other New Yorkers rushing to the subway platforms. Down to the number 6 train I would go, with the smells of urine and so many bodies, and cram in to the car with hundreds of others, like so many sardines in a can.
Now when I wake up, it is to the sound of birds and a gentle breeze blowing through the Aspen trees outside our bedroom window. I can hear my neighbors roosters crowing 1/2 mile away and sometimes, the bellowing of a cow or whinnying of horses.
I pull on my PJ’s, a robe and my Bogs and let my 3 dogs out…Belle runs off, barking at the world, letting all the creatures know she is the guardian of our ranch.
Over to the chicken barn, I open their pop door and out they pour, flapping and running, looking for some kind of bug morsel.
I sit and I watch them, pecking and scratching while I savor my first cup of coffee and watch the sun come up over our 80 acres of heaven….maybe mornings are not so bad after all :).
