There are two types of people in this world – early birds and night owls.

I am a card-carrying member of the first club.  Oh, in my younger years, I was well-versed with all of the trappings of the second group, living my 20’s and 30’s like some sort of Eastern European vampire.  Back in those days we never even left the house to go out to a bar until 11:00 PM, and I had had many unfortunate instances where I put down a drink in the wee hours of the morning and went straight into work for a 7:00AM shift.  Foolish, some would say, but I subscribe that it built character in a person.

Anyway, I digress.  As I have aged (much like a fine wine or ripe cheese), I have slowly trended towards the other end of the spectrum, now embracing the morning hours and shunning late nights.  Even in my retirement, I keep hours more akin to Mayberry, N.C. (aka the “Andy Griffith” show) rather than Manhattan.  It’s rare to see me up past 10:00 PM these days, and it’s been years since I watched a late-night talk show (or even seen the 11:00PM news, for that matter).

Do I set an alarm?  No, I do not.  After years of getting up early for my job, I have a built-in body clock that wakes me up just before the sun rises in the morning, so I still roll over and crawl out of bed, even in the early days of my non-employed life.

What do I do, you may ask?  Well, I take this quiet time in the morning for me (as my wife is still firmly entrenched in the night owl camp).  I get up, do some light stretching or morning exercises (I’ll stack my morning push-up total against any twenty-something, thank you very much), and then head out to take a few laps of my small town.

The loop created by the alleyways of my little hamlet is just about a mile, so I try to get in two laps each morning during the week.  It’s quite an elevation change from one end to the other (high on both ends and a dip in the middle), so I bundle up on these crisp mornings and head out to get some steps in and get my heart rate up.

The quiet of the morning as the town awakens is something to experience and savor.  The only people out are the folks getting in their cars to begin their morning commute, but other than that, it’s just me, the stray cats of town (who eye me warily from a distance), a couple of complaining dogs out taking their morning constitutional and staking their territory, and one solitary rooster (who is also up and serenading the coming dawn).

Birds are twittering in the trees overhead and the moon is sinking in the sky as the distant horizon changes from dark purple to hues of orange, pink, and light blue.  As I return to the house from my second lap, the flowering cherry trees on the street have already begun to shed their blossoms, so I tread on a carpet of pink petals under a canopy of lightly falling spring color, like some Roman general who has returned from a successful campaign of conquest from the far reaches of Gaul or Macedonia.

The sun finally breaks the horizon, firing bright beams of concentrated light over the landscape, just as I reach the porch of my house and retrieve the morning paper.  I retreat inside and brew a fresh cup of coffee to “officially” start my day, looking out over my backyard and thinking about where the next few hours will take me – completing a chore, setting my dinner menus for the week, or writing out my weekly grocery list.

It’s not even 7:30AM and yet look at what I’ve accomplished already.

Yes, morning time (especially early morning) is my time.

Who knows what the day will bring?