At 5:30am when the puppy scratches at the hall door and wakes me up, I feel frustrated and a little ripped off. But later in the day, when the gluggy memory of sleep and pillow and warm blankets has shed itself from my skin, I find reasons to be glad.
You don’t get photos like this at 9am.
An early rising also allows for photos that feel fresher because of lighting and that ever-romantic coating of dew drops that I can never resist trying to capture.
You also get a lot more done in a morning when you get up that early. By 9am I had fed all the pets, the kids, and the grown ups breakfast, emptied and re-loaded the dishwasher, put a batch of seeds for the next few loaves of bread through the food processor, planned where puppy and I would walk today, packed a backpack for said walk and had my lovely once-a-day cup of brewed coffee.
So although I am tired like I used to be when the kids were babies and although right now, sitting here typing this my eyes feel like closing… I am grateful to puppy. He is showing me worlds I have previously ignored or slept through.
