Love you from the bottom of my pencil case.
That, is precisely the time I should leave the house in order to have six out of the eight traffic light stops that I encounter on my way to work, turn green at my approach.
There is something about the way the traffic lights turn from blinding red to welcoming green. They beat with their own rhythms; ticking silently and tirelessly.
Early mornings are serene. The hills are barely alive, the sun is just about to arise from its slumber, and only a handful of cars with drivers up and awake for the new day hit the roads, still patient and accommodating – until they get into dreary traffic jams much later on, that is.
Next possible time is 6.55am, I think. I have yet to put that to the test. I am sure there will be a difference to what those mere few minutes can make.
(In other news: early mornings, late nights, weekends at work — all over for now. I was working like I have never worked before. So yes! Rejoice! I could buy you a drink, too.)