After 3 nonconsecutive hours of sleep, I wake up. Ahead of the small-hours alarm, but not so early that I could do my workout before rather than after work. Though that is what I told myself, as I tossed and turned – that if I was awake again (or still) with 45 minutes left pre-alarm, I would work out.
Just as well. I’d rather have the sleep with the drive ahead of me.
After I’ve thrown myself together, I step outside.
Of course the clock disagrees, but the sky insists it is still night.
Stars twinkle in the inky blackness of the sky. Scattered clouds seem a pale gray, nearly white by comparison.
By the time I cross the state line, it’s as if I’m looking at a photo negative of that image. The sky seems white and the clouds a dark gray, nearly black.
In between the horizon is very briefly red, the sky is very briefly blue, the clouds are ever so briefly tinged with edges of pink.
But mostly it’s the negatives that make my impression of the commute.
And watching the sky is apparently something that brings me delight. If you were counting.