The Sun Is Not Up...

I spent the wee hours of the morning typing a beautiful post, watching the morning begin. The light was dim and barely shining through the curtains. I was foolish and didn't save it, and now it is lost. It gives me a chance to rewrite the magic, although the sun is in full bloom. When I first wrote this, the sun was just beginning to rise and the birds were just beginning to sing. Why do I love the early morning so? All the good things are related to early morning, I began my most fun trips in the early morning. The early morning is when it is quiet, and everyone is asleep. 
The birds were chirping a lovely tune of their morning melodies. The choir of feathers and beaks, hiding in the trees and perched on branches, nestled in their nests. They welcome the morning, and say goodbye to the evening. 
There is no sound, no warmth to the morning, so a blanket substitutes the heat before the sun has a chance to arrive. The morning hours between 5 o' clock and 6 o' clock hold a beautiful transformation. Before 5:01, it is dark as night can be, when the clock ticks, another minute goes by and the sky brightens up just a little bit, enough to see it peak through the curtains. I hardly ever enjoy my favorite time of day because I sleep through it, or I am stuck getting ready for school, caught up in the busy Fall routine that follows the bitter winter, and then to the soggy spring. Summer is the only time I will be able to enjoy the morning, that is while I am in school. 
The summertime is when things slow down, and I can take time to watch things such as the sunrise or sunset. Summertime is beautiful. In Oregon, the summer is fickle, one day it can be over 90 degrees, and the next day it can be 50 degrees and pouring down rain. Lately, the summer has been holding to it's name. It has been warm, and the sun has been keeping us company. 
I'm glad I had a chance to rewrite, because now I can compare between the hours. It is now the mid of the morning sixth hour, and the day is in full swing. Cars are pulling out of drive ways so the drivers can leave for work, the house wakes up with it's creaks, and the birds have quieted down some. It's bittersweet.