The Light of Day
I have always favored the daytime hours in a 24-hour span. Given my history, many would find this suspect. I was a musician for many years and most rehearsals and gigs took place at night. As a result of this endeavor, my friends were either musicians or other type of degenerates and we favored denying the light, delighted in prowling the dark. When we weren’t gigging, we were partying. The rising sun was our cue to hide from the luminosity of day and like Nosferatu we sought our beds where we slept beneath blankets and sheets to hide from the radiance of a risen sun. Only to resume this decadent lifestyle shortly after the dinner hour.
When it was time to lay aside the rock star dreams I sought a trade, a career that would provide me with a steady income to move forward in the world as a responsible, mature adult male. As a result, a large part of the working world for me was spent in the overnight hours. I discovered that a night shift provided higher pay, less management breathing down your neck, far cooler people working alongside me, and almost no traffic getting to or from work.
But each and every time the sun rose – during the budding rock star years or the overnight employment positions – I was energized, invigorated by the early morning radiance. The very air smelled of hope, of dreams that were possible. It was what attracted me to fishing (on the lake by 5am), running (way, way back) while the sun rose, or just getting more things accomplished before noon than most people I knew were getting done in an entire day. Rainy days are tolerated because I understand their necessity, but too many consecutive days of no sunlight and I experience a deep, internal funk.
I’ve discovered over the years that there are many of us – people who thrive in the light. Some of my friends have very short evenings, retiring at unseemingly early hours so they might be awake that much earlier the next day. Though I crave the a.m. hours I have never quite overcome the effects of working nights for so long, resulting in sleep being evasive, coming only at her convenience and never lingering for any amount of time. Still, I rise early and face the new day with gust and fervor, with passion and abandon, with hope and promise of better things to come. During the months of beautiful weather I relish the bliss of bicycling while the dawn breaks.
Too much? Probably, but the dawn-to-dark hours are my domain now. The vistas I seek are visible under the aubade of a new day. A walk, a bicycle ride, or a road trip invigorate my spirit because Sol lights my path. It’s almost a religious experience.
RjCook’s is the author of The Road Behind Me and Dream Lover and Other Tales. Click HERE for info.
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