I’m an early bird. I like the word early bird. It’s an honor to be able to compare myself to a bird. Besides, it suggests that there are, among birds themselves, both early and late risers. Imagine a family of daddy bird, mommy bird and children birds, can it be that one of the family members often wakes up earlier than the others? Maybe it’s the daddy bird who sneaks out of his nest when the sun rises to contemplate the morning dew. His wife wakes up at the morning tantrums of the kids to find him already outside of their nest. “What can I do about it?”, he smiles at her, “I’m an early bird.”
It is my favorite moment of the whole week, waking up early on Sunday morning while my partner is still asleep. My partner often enjoy his weekend by sleeping in until 10 or 11 o’clock. While he is still deep asleep, I would sneak out of bed, put on comfy clothes and walk quietly on my socks to the living room. The cat, alarmed by my sudden movements, would follow me and meow softly until his breakfast has been served. Then I would have the whole morning for myself, to do nothing in particular. I would just stand by the window with a cup of hot coffee in my hands. I love watching our street from the window. It is 7 o’clock and the whole neighbourhood seems to still be asleep. Sometimes, I spot another early bird. It is often a young man on a tiny scooter with a giant helmet on his head, a sleepless grandfather walking down the street with a wooden cane in one hand, or an energetic young woman jogging in tight clothes with her dog on a leash. In the summer, the early morning light would warm up the whole living room. In the winter, I would enjoy the heavy mist outside instead. Once in a while, I can hear the sound of my partner stretching or sighing in his sleep. The cat must have licked his face.
I enjoy being alone and having nothing to do. Then I can let my mind wander and contemplate about myself and my environment. When I sit back into my lazy chair after the coffee, I can feel my face muscles relaxing. My eyes are soft, my eyebrows feel light, and my jaw is at rest. I treasure these quiet moments, as it is difficult to find such moments in the presence of others. Sometimes, my cat would come and rub his head against my legs to ask for food. Yet he is quite forgetful. After a while, he would doze off next to my feet while dreaming about his favorite kibbles.
Soon, the neigbourhood will wake up and the normal everyday life will resume. On a roof across the street, a group of early birds perch near the chimney.