early bird

I love morning. It's fresh. I like the angle of the sun and the way it dapples the street through the trees. Later, it will be higher in the sky and not quite so gentle. It makes me think of art show mornings and why I like them so much. The artists are setting up in the new light. There is that morning smell of grass and dew mixed with coffee and the aroma of onions frying.

Behind the tents, there is joking and moaning and laughing and bitching. Bagels are unwrapped. I like the 2nd day best. When you unzip the back of your booth and step into your personal little piece of the world. Quiet. Welcoming. I never felt that way walking into my office in the morning when I had a "real" job. I like the empty streets with the booths waiting for the fun to begin. It's like theater when the patrons are seated and the cast is in place behind the curtain and the conductor lifts the baton. Anticipation.



Soon enough the people will come and fill the streets. We will watch them from our perches inside or beside our booths, hoping they slow down, step in and see something they like. That's what was nice about the "real" job. If you did what was expected, you got paid. No such guarantee in this business. You can work your heart out and still not make enough to pay the mortgage.

It all depends on them. The people who fill the streets.



In the early morning, it all seems possible.