Walking in the early morning before the sun rises is scary. But not so scary as to stop me from walking in the dark. I’ve made friends with the dark. For years I worked in an environment where I slept during the day and spent the night working and playing. I also learned that it is no safer in the daytime. Every time I have been in danger it has been during the day.
I carry my keys in my dominate hand ready to poke some eyes out if I have to. I have also learned that I don’t have it in me to attack first. From fights when I was a lot younger, they had to hurt me first and then I would go animal. So, trying to override my survival instincts has been difficult at best.
As I tape over my PTSD, I realize that I am enjoying the wee hours, I feel peaceful. My first bird has woken up, so I go out to see what’s going on. There is never anything going on. But the birds and the cats and occasionally a dog. The other morning, I saw a fox. Sometimes I pick a flower for my girl.
I like to look at the houses and the decorations, their gardens and their cars and image who they might be, what their life is like and why their lights are on so early, if that be the case. I watch the bugs desperately try to approach the porch light and bounce off. Cats come out of their sleeping places to see who is approaching. I’ve made friends with one cat. The rest just run away. Who is this lady walking at 5am?
This lady is someone who has to still sometimes hide when a car is coming, nothing like looking suspicious. The fear is still there it just gets deferred. I can’t shut off my primal instincts and that is to feel cautious. Not oblivious. I hope you enjoy the stories of my struggles and my victories. I also write at the wee hours mostly because I go to bed by 9 o’clock. Three am is when I get up and watch the Good Wife, turn off the telly and get to writing. Then I make the decision to be good to myself and walk. I have to do it because I get tired by noon.
Now that I am older my body (my friend calls it her donkey) gets tired much more easily. Walking is the one thing I can do for any length of time. I worry about my donkey. Will it outlast my brain which I call the “jerk” or the “committee?” The committee seems to think it will outlast the donkey. Only time will tell.
I enjoy the early morning hours. Getting up while it’s dark, watching the sun slowly spread light, the crisp morning air, listening to the night animals quiet down and the day animals wake up. It’s invigorating.
I don’t walk in the dark though. We have moose and coyote and cougar out and about. And two legged animals too. Unless Al comes with. He knows his way around a firearm.
And now we have moved from the country to the valley. It will be interesting to see how mornings are here. The need to walk the dog gets me out daily. We live on the river, so this time of year the geese fly upriver honking away.
I do find myself more vulnerable as I get older. I never used to question my ability to take care of myself. I know differently now. Didn’t I say wisdom comes with age?