Strange days indeed

It's 4:00 in the morning and I've been wide awake since 3:00 when I got out of bed completely sure that it was 7:00 and let Cheyenne out, fed her, looked for the non-existent paper in my driveway, made the coffee, drank a cup of coffee and then noticed the darkness out my windows, looked at the clock and slapped myself on the forehead.

Four in the morning is an odd hour to be awake but also a beautiful hour. The world is quiet, the neighborhood dark, the everything around me in a lull waiting, just waiting for the dawn. The hour is like a secret, like a smile on the face of a sleeping loved one.

I feel as if I'm spying, spying on dawn, on a budding flower, a forming pearl, a sentence about to be completed. I feel as if this is the perfect hour, with nothing to do and no one to call.

The fan whirs above my head, the candle glows, the laptop screen glows, the clock ticks. The clock ticks! I don't know the last time I tuned in to the sound of the kitchen clock.

For now, for these waking moment, my world is perfect. It's as if I've awakened to come downstairs and see that Santa Claus has arrived and for a few moments, I take in the beauty of magic discovered. My heart has opened up to the delight of the unexpected scene before me.

It makes me all sorts of excited to go back to sleep and curl up to my dreams, dreams in which I have happiness written all over my body.

Oh, and isn't creativity wonderful? Excellent use of bokeh.