It’s three forty something in the morning (the time that’s so early that the numbers just won’t suffice).

Nothing is stirring.  Not even a mouse.

It’s peaceful. Literally, full of peace. To the brim.

There are no car horns blaring. No people scurrying up and down the street in rowdy conversation.  Even the birds are still sleeping.  The only sound and movement is of the light breeze blowing leaves across the street – and you really have to be tuned in to hear that.

God it’s perfect this time of the morning.

I went to sleep with so many deep thoughts to share upon my waking.  I categorized everything that needed to happen for today and laid down on my to-do list.  But now that I’m up in the still of this morning, none of that even remotely matters.  I don’t know what the rest of the day will bring. I’m certain it won’t be like this even in the milliseconds after the sun rises. The lunacy of the “hustle and bustle” will try to take over, even in my mind.

It seems arrogant to me now that I intended to run with my plan when even nature understands what to do with the luxury we’ve been given at this time of the morning.

Just be quiet.    Be still.      Hush.

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