In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning

"In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole world is fast asleep"-
Johnny Mathis

Sometimes it's hard.  Getting up to ride so early.  To think of it, one goes to sleep at 22:00 only to rise again at 4:00 or 5:00; such is my  motivation to ride.  There are very few nicer times to ride while the whole world is fast asleep.  Well, at least the humans are asleep.  For the most part.  The cops are perpetually around, not that they bother me.  I am grateful for their presence at times.  There are quite a few animals here and there, and it's not surprising to see deer as apparently this is their favorite time to be out feeding and being frisky or whatever it is that deers do at this time of the morning.   The great thing aside from having little to almost no traffic is the ability to sing to the wind.  I sound awful.   I know.  Being tone deaf isn't the best thing at times, but at least the sandhill cranes apparently do not mind.  Nor do the killdeers, whose time has come to go North, nor much of anything else aside from the deers who startle me as much as I do them.  Did I forget to mention the lack of sunlight?  Love the sun, just not after 10:00 at this time of the year.  It gets hot and having to wear sunscreen on one's face and endure the drips into the eyes as your face manages to squeeze every once of fluid outta ya is never fun.  However, there is a flip side to that one and it entails bugs.  During the day I wear my Giros, but at night that isn't possible and this is the time of the year where flying bugs are a royal pain in the arse.  I get them in my eyes, my hair and plastered to my legs and arms.  The bad ones are the big ones that feel like someone hit you with a small rock when they crash into your face.  There have been many lacerations over the past few years.

However, there are very few words that describe the calmness, peace and serenity of an early morning ride.  The smells are vastly different from those during the day, although some, right now, such as the confederate jasmine send out their smells regardless of time of the day or night.  As I head down the road, their fragrance permeates the air.  It is a strong smell, almost cloying at their peaks, but a tantalizing smell nonetheless.  Further down I pick up another scent, those of the magnolias and see, under the streetlamps, that they are also in full bloom now.  Jasmine is a heady, deep smell; magnolia is more like a rose with a sharper odor.  As much as I like the trees, I am grateful that I do not have any in my yard as the ones I had in North Florida were a constant headache when they shed their cones and leaves that are so big that even the lawn mower can't break them up.

My ride this morning will be short.  I did a 50 miler the other day in 2.45 hours at 94 degrees on one breakfast bar and I literally went home and fried 6 idaho baking potatoes for fries.  That ride was an aggressive one; this one is a short chance of pure enjoyment.  As I ride past one of the many holding ponds that dot the entire area for flood control, my reverie is disrupted by the stench of "the water table's getting too low".  It must be the decaying matter coming to suface.  It's certainly not a pleasant smell.  However, it is only a momentarily annoyance.  My goal is a short 15 miler to catch the sun come up.  Above me, out to the heavens lies the crescent moon and a big Venus.  I have to wait for the sun to start rising in order to get a shot of them since my camera is of nothing to talk about.  Doesn't mean I don't have an artistic urge to capture what I see, just that it's a big disappointment.  I do miss my old camera.  This one eats batteries like no tomorrow.  I consider putting a little aside from my paycheck to purchase something to write home about.  Things are tight now.  My lifestyle is taking a change.  I am now conserving more than ever.  I cycle to work and to the store at every given chance and no longer use the dryer to dry the laundry.  Why bother?  It's like having to pay for free heat at this time now.  Plus, the clothes dry within 5 hours in the garage.  I won't dare hang them outside for fear of afternoon thundershowers.  I learnt that lesson years ago.

After about 10 miles I see that distinct glow of the sun making it's way slowly up the horizon and consider the best areas to get a shot of the Moon, Venus and ole Sun.  I also acknowledge that the skies are so very clear that getting a shot of the sun will be near impossible with his intense rays.  Here and there I snap pictures of the horizon, almost an attempt to get a series of different perspectives in a time frame.  I have no idea how they will come out so I use both the camera and the cell to experiment.  As I wait, the sweet smell from the swamp surrounds me.  It is a low lying area on Budinger that is unique only to that area and when one passes it the temp actually dips a few degrees, so much that it is quite noticeable and the smell is almost like soft rain.

"Softly as in a morning sunrise
The Light of Love comes stealing
Into a newborn day"-
Bobby Darin

As I wait patiently for enough light to snap a few pics, I munch on pralines and Sports Beans, Watermelon being my favorite.  Certainly not the best choice of food, but I've got a thing for pecans.  As ole sun begins his climb, I take pictures here and there and ride further up the road to another spot.  In one area the surrounding air is so cool due to a cold front that moved through, that the mist is coming off the lake.  I try taking a picture of this too, but the annoyance of a chain link fence prevents me from getting anything good.

After my shots are done, I zip around the neighborhood, doing a few laps on Burberry before I head home.  The sun has not quite risen, so that wondrous glow just barely lights the edge of the earth.  Those pinks, blues, yellows, all mixed and blended together, much softer than a sunset's glow.  Reminds me of melons and mangoes.  The color of a peach.  Almost as though something had a calming effect on it.  I stop at a cul de sac and watch, my eyes never ceasing to be amazed and appreciative of the glories of nature.  I am reminded of Stevenson's poem as I watch and eventually head back to the world of men and their problems.  There will always be another morning, and of course, another ride to write and muse about.  The joy is in the knowing.

"Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays."-

Robert Louis Stevenson