In Defense of the Morning Person

We all know those people who go to bed at 9:00 or 10:00 every night just to wake up bright and early at 6:00 or 7:00 the next morning. Often seen by the outside world as “dull” due to a disinterest in nightlife, these people are just misunderstood. Although many feel that things are more exciting when the sun goes down, there are some people in this world who prefer to watch the world come alive as the sun comes up.

I am one of those people. I love mornings everywhere, but I especially love mornings in Lyon. I love walking along the Rhône River on the way to my favorite coffee shop. I love that I can still see the dew on the grass that the sun has not yet burned away. I love feeling the rays of the sun on my skin combined with the slight chill in the air – just enough to make the eyes twinkle a bit and the edge of nose to turn the faintest shade of pink, but not enough to be uncomfortable. I love to see the old couples on the sidewalk slowly making their way to the market, shooing the pigeons who are looking for some left over bits of bread. I love to see the little kids walking in between their parents, each holding a tiny hand in their own, on the big journey to what is sure to be a fun filled day of time tables and word problems with an adequate amount of recess sprinkled in between. I love to see the businessmen in their suits riding their bikes on the way to work. I love how nothing is crowded yet, so you don’t feel like you have been missing out. I love the smell of fresh bread baking in the boulangeries. I love the feeling of walking away from the paper stand with a fresh newspaper folded up under your arm. I love to walk past the cafés with people sitting at the little tables outside enjoying they morning espresso. The best thing in the world is waking up with the sunshine. You can see the opportunity for a great day everywhere you look. Some people prefer the moon, but for me, there is nothing better than sitting outside in the crisp, early morning air, before the sun has made its presence overwhelming, with some coffee and the morning’s newspaper (or a good book, of course). That is when I feel most alive.

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