I’ve actually been enjoying my morning walk as of late. It’s 7am, it’s cold, there’s barely a breeze, and there is almost no one in sight in the dark, slowly approaching light.
But, I’m liking it. Really liking it.
It reminds me of my morning walks to work before maternity leave, in particular on those brisk and very fresh Spring mornings, and how despite the startling weather, I even used to enjoy those.
What do they have in common? Silence, and water.
I have great views where I work. On the outskirts of the inner-city, it’s a quieter place than where the main ho-hum operates, but still crazy-busy when the sun comes out and all the work people come out to play during their breaks.
I’m exceptionally lucky to be in the midst of it all, but kind of NOT in the midst of it all too. And who would rather be anywhere else? There are cafes galore, and still enough to see and do around the area to keep you occupied when bored… okay I’m clutching at straws there. But the water, makes up for it.
I’ve become really grateful for my morning walks. It’s cold but not yet that freezing cold that really hits as the sun comes up, and it’s so quiet and peaceful… and then I’ll look out onto the quiet, still water, silently rippling in places here, and there, and take a breath… then exhale.
It’s my own private space that I’m occasionally sharing with early-morning commuters to work. Tradies. Business people. Local yuppies. But they don’t see me. We’re all sharing the same space, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s all mine.