Monday, May 23, 2011

Saturday Morning, 6:30 a.m.

Diversey Harbor as day begins (JWB, 2011)

I get up early, usually by 5:30.  It’s a lifetime habit that it doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to break.  I never had a job that didn’t require an early out, and now that I’m retired I’m kind of thankful for that.

The two hours or so before the world starts to move are my special time.  I can watch the sun come up over the lake, read the paper, write in my journal, get a blog entry started or on good days go for a walk before I have to fight for my share of the scenery.

That’s what I did this past Saturday. 

Walking in a city that hasn’t woken up yet . . . to me that provides more peace and quiet than taking a walk out in a country forest preserve.  In the middle of this steel and stone hunk of a city, I’m alone. 

The two a.m. Friday drunks are home, sleeping it off, and the homeless guy is still asleep under the locust tree.  He had a good night; Friday was warm enough to dry out his blankets and sheets. 

The harbor was quiet.  Boaters wouldn’t be buying ice for the beer for another couple hours.

It was just the two ladies in the double scull and I . . . they, slipping across the soft complexion of Diversey Harbor . . . me, watching them emerge from the shadows . . . all three of us part of a good place in the great, sleeping city. 

A good start to a great day in the finest city in the world.

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