I drove the mister to work yesterday morning just shy of 7am. He put together an astounding costume for the contest at work and could not ride his bike in it or even walk to work in it and so I stumbled out of bed on my day off in the quiet dark of morning to chauffeur my love to work clad in the jeans that were dropped on the floor the night before, the tank top and shirt I slept in, shoes without socks, and a sock monkey hat to cover the party on my head.
The sky was mostly dark with stars staggering home, the bully of a hummingbird that flits about his sage was chip-shipping away and a tiny sliver of moon winked at me. The air was soothing and cool with a whisper of breathy air moving about as I paused to take a picture of the moon.
The drive across town was quiet and dark with me muttering at the people careening to work annoyed that their aggression was taking away from enjoying the drive. Mister usually bikes to work and hour earlier than this and I am grateful that when he does there are no cars, just dark accompanied by a chorus from the birds and frogs beginning and finishing their days. The drive home took me less than ten minutes and in those ten minutes the sky changed from dark to bright.
No. Mornings in San Luis Obispo are not grand or showy or pretty even. They are dark then they are light. There is no pink blush of morning tinting our mountains or showy golden streaks careening across the sky. Often we are greeted with a muted marine layer that blankets the sky in white leaving us no clue to our days. Will it rain? Will it be hot? Will it be cool? The beauty of our mornings can be found in the everyday in the rituals you see of your neighbor bracing themselves against the cool in their green and blue polka dotted robe as they stoop to grab their morning paper, the little lady in the bright orange work-vest power-walking her way by your window for the third time in twenty-minutes, by the birds that twitter and gossip the dark away, by the college students hurrying to school wrapped up in hats and scarves, phones to their ears as they maneuver themselves with coffee-in hand and flip flops on their feet.
Mornings in San Luis Obispo are not grand or showy or pretty even. They are cool and quiet then busy and bright. They are full of dog walkers, runners, walkers, and cyclists. They are full of the sounds of skateboard wheels rolling down our street, with children slamming car doors on their way to school, with the wind-chimes in the garden gracefully slam-dancing in slow motion with the breeze. There is always a breeze.
Mornings in San Luis Obispo are not grand or showy or pretty even, they on occasion carry the lowing of the cows as they breakfast their way across the peak, the gobble of the wild turkey in the fall, the grumble rumble of the garbage trucks gathering up their breakfast of champions, and the rhythmic turns of the trains that hurry threw with nary a hello on their way to grander destinations.
As I drove home across town clad in the jeans that were dropped on the floor the night before, the tank top and shirt I slept in, shoes without socks, and a sock monkey hat to cover the party on my head; as the sky turned white, and the blackbirds careened across the sky in such masses I they appeared to be bats returning home, I thought of how mornings in San Luis Obispo are not grand or showy or pretty even...but to me, they are beautiful.
**Hello November and thanks for joining us this Friday morning! Today is the first day of our sweet november photo-a-day challenge. (click here to see the photo list and here to see Tara's photos) Hopefully you'll be inspired to play along with us, and at the end of the month we'll have weeks worth of fun photos to share with each other! Leave a comment and share your sweet november photos.**