“An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.” H.D. Thoreau
“Tradesmen and domestics must use the freight elevator” Sign
in east-side apartment house
Morning Glories in Morningside Heights |
From four to six, the city is as quiet as it ever
is. The breeze is fresh, the air is clean, a rare calm prevails. And it's time to commune with the “early-morning aristocracy.”
This little phrase occurred to me many years ago, riding the
subway from the outer reaches of Brooklyn to a job in Manhattan
that began at 5:30 a.m. The subway car was full, but still quiet and
calm. All around me were sitting half-asleep, in various states of meditation, my fellow morning laborers: bakers, coffee-shop waitresses, horse-cab
drivers, construction workers, nannies, food-cart vendors, garbage collectors, news writers, fishmongers, who knows what? They were up early so the city could get the
running start it demands every day.
Outdoors, other species predominate. Pigeons have an early-morning dignity they lose
when the sun rises higher. Left to themselves, they strut and peck about the pavement, clearing the deck for the
flood of pedestrians who will soon overrun it. Dogs, wide awake, pull their walkers along. The dominance is reversed after breakfast, when
the dogs settle down for their long day’s nap, and the owners get about their affairs.
Flowers preen as sunshine steals through the trees. Morning glories climb the fence and open royal-hued
reproductive organs. Bees and butterflies oblige.
It’s all over by seven. The coffee brewed, the pastries baked, the
chairs set out, the news written, the ticker up and running, the garbage
collected, the morning glories visited, the early-morning aristocracy yawns, and “dawn goes down to day.”
Copyright 2015 by Tom Phillips
I like it, but it doesn't tempt me to move to the city. Here the early morning is dominated by the sun and the leaves, or lack of thereof. Helen
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