The Second Stage of Morning

7:49 PM, sheen...

In the early morning, when sleep is still stretched over the world like a sheet of pale silk, things seem unoccupied and other-worldly. An inveterate night-owl, I’m not normally one to be awake at five AM -- unless I happen to be getting ready for bed, that is. I rose with the sun today, though, and ended up having a pretty productive time of it, getting things done here and there.

It seems to me that morning is composed of three parts. First, there is the illusory beginnings, that stage at the threadbare end of night when the presence of light rises just above the edge of your visual threshold. Almost like being on the edge of sleep, the first stage of morning is a drifting "partially there" moment that seems to pass without you really knowing it.

The second stage is that spectral, pale silk time. The light is cool and covers the world in a soft emptiness. Less tricky than the glimmer-in-the-corner-of-your-eye first stage, the second part of morning is the real thing. But it is still new and vaguely unoccupied. The fact that people are just starting to live in this area of morning gives it a newborn, almost alien aspect. It’s the day’s New Territory -- and a fine time to be driving, watching empty miles of road unroll before you.

Then the third stage of morning arrives. It’s when the light gets hard, bright. When the day machine starts running on all cylinders. The third stage is coffee, traffic, car phones, radios...and work. In a busy montage of engines and activity, this stage blurs, eventually, into full-fledged daytime.

I’ve never been much of a morning person -- but the time does have its pretty parts. Especially that second stage sheen...

--- JWR, 3/29/99