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The baby woke at 4:15, but went back to sleep, and I imagined a later morning, dozing perhaps until 7 or so; good moods all around for the day.

But 30 minutes later, I heard one of the dogs getting sick. So I climbed out of bed, reassured him that he was fine, and went to clean it up.

Afterwards, the house was quiet. A clock could have been ticking, and I would have heard it.

I walked outside to pick up the newspaper. All my adult life, I’ve enjoyed a Sunday paper; the ritual of turning the gray pages, of letting my eyes find the stories that are most interesting, is a precious one. Days are busy, though; I haven’t been able to open my paper in weeks. Most days, I haven’t even removed it from the plastic.

Yet this morning, this early morning, I picked it up off the driveway in the pre-dawn. I looked towards the sky, and found the moon and stars. I remembered, for a moment, how big the world is.

I walked back into my house, made cozy by lamplight, and poured my espresso into a mug. The baby was sleeping. The dogs were settled. Everyone was quiet.

And so I sat. I sipped. In the solitude of morning, surrounded by the small evidences of my family, I allowed myself a moment. I opened the paper, and read.

One comment on “Early, October

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