It is colder here inland than on the island, made temperate by the sea. Jack Frost has been busy painting, as my mother used to say.
The sun rose in an odd, milky light this morning, although there was no mist or cloud visible to my eye.
If there is one thing I've learned this year, it is that the body goes through cycles of alertness and weariness that have little to do with what time you get out of bed in the morning. Today, I got up at almost exactly the hour of my first sunrise on January 1st. One would think that having come from a summer of pre-5am risings, I would be feeling wide eyed and raring to go at this late hour. Nope. When my alarm sounded its relentless digital tones the last few mornings, I have been hard pressed to drag myself up and out. Motivation flags.
I suppose, as I may have supposed before, that by some definitions I have simply gotten up at the same time every day - about a half hour before dawn. Never darker or lighter except by way of cloud cover. So that is another argument for consistency of experience. But we are not consistent beings, by a long stretch.
Sometimes I think that with the onset of this time of year, when so many living things are quietly retreating into dormancy and hibernation, we humans are feeling the same inclination. We really should listen to our instincts and just stay in bed longer.