I have never been a morning person so when someone says “good morning” to me I usually feel like punching them. I much prefer the evenings, the midnights, the twilight hours before the sun comes up.
Until now.
Now, I’m getting up before 6am every morning (unheard of!) I can’t wait to get up. It doesn’t matter what the weather is like, I have this shy new relationship with the morning and feel slightly guilty about our years of conflict. In fact, I feel that the time has come to declare my love of the morning.
Why?
It’s the birds. First it’s the peacocks at the back door, then it’s the chickens. I give them all a bit of bread, boil the kettle, pour a coffee, then go out to the chookyards to let ‘the gang’ out for the day.
Then I distribute lettuce, bread and other tantalising scraps to the throng of birds. They surround me, jump onto my lap, squabble, squawk, nibble the back of my shirt and generally run around like children just let out for recess.
Yes, the morning and I have a great relationship now!
jmgoyder 