I'm up in the semi-darkness. It drains the balls in the pool of their color, so they look like strange guardians sliding over the surface. Watching, searching.
Another six a.m. morning, dragging myself up after having stayed up too late working. School will be off track for November. I'll sleep then. The sounds of the coffee maker tell me it's nearly done. That last gurgle and hiss was close enough to Pavlov's bells. I'm an addict.
It's worth it to me, to have this quiet time before I wake Orion and begin this day. I outlined it last night, as I nearly always do, in a list of reminders and plans. I have work to do for the school's fall festival. It's the people who are already too busy who seem to get things done. I see it on their faces. The committee could use some sleep too.
I smell the coffee. I wonder where I'll find inspiration today. Possibly I should take Jack London's words to heart and 'go after it with a club.' The balls glide past, one, two...three, and off again, caught in the current. They're just toys after all. If I'm seeing them as dark sentinels, possibly I won't need the club today.
It's dawn. Here comes the light and color and birdsong. Just like that.
Hope your day is inspired.