5:45 am and my holidays are officially over.
6a.m is ugly
Fuck.
A return to our early morning walk routine and even the dog looked at me as if to say “What the hell?” Back out into that pre-6a.m quiet that we have avoided for the past 10 days and with it come the familiar faces of the “morning people”. (I am just a begrudging visitor in their world) The speed walking older German women, the friendly lady with the retriever who never fails to make a comment on the weather as our dogs sniff each others asses, and the elderly man whose slow stroll up my street is as regular a sight as the dawn. Every one of them gave Maggi & I an extra enthusiastic “Good morning!” today as though our early a.m presence had been a given and our brief unexplained absence threw the morning slightly off kilter. I understand this feeling- whenever any of them are missing I spend my walk wondering why. I ran into the man who delivers the paper in my neighbourhood 2 days ago at the grocery store.
“Haven’t seen you and the little dog lately.”
“I’m on holidays.” I replied, smiling.
It’s nice to be missed, even if it is just by strangers who are crazy enough to be cheerful at 5:45 a.m
