It was nice and cool in our house this morning.
That is, until you actually woke up and started moving around.
After a few incredibly lovely days of 70-ish degree temperatures, the weather turned hot and muggy again yesterday. We didn't bother to turn our air conditioning on because the weather is going to cool off again in a day or so. We opened the windows when we came home from work, but it was still warm by the time everyone went to bed.
One of the first things I did this morning was open up our bedroom windows. I got dressed in jeans and a tank top (part of the casual ensemble I would be wearing to work today), watched Hubby leave for work, then opened up the front door and the door to the deck off the kitchen to get the 'cross breeze' moving through the house.
I stood at the back door for a minute looking out into the backyard. The sun wasn't up yet and the neighborhood was very quiet. Going back upstairs and getting ready was what I should do, but instead, I slid the patio screen open, stepped out onto the deck, and slid the screen closed quietly behind me. It was far cooler outside than it was inside. I padded on bare feet over to one of the deck's two benches and sat down on the edge, feet dangling over the side.
The houses behind and on either side of us were still dark. Their occupants sleeping soundly in their beds like our clowns were doing upstairs. At that moment, I heard the door to our bedroom slam shut. I'd forgotten to put something in front of the door to prevent that from happening because of the open window. Oops. I sat on the bench a moment or two, listening to the sounds in our house. Surprisingly, I didn't hear any of the clowns rustling about. I thought for sure someone would wake up because of the door slam. After another moment, I switched my focus again to the backyard.
The sun still wasn't awake yet and I scooted back on the bench and laid down on it, looking up at the still night sky. There were clouds, but I could make out a few dozen of the brightest stars shining through. I could imagine the nearly full moon shining down on the front of house. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the crickets chirping, the occasional car going down the street. I heard the breeze blowing through the trees, and felt it's coolness blow over me.
Letting out a long, slow, exhale I smiled at the unexpected peace I'd just found. Hmm. Lovely. I let my mind wander, not ahead to the day in front of me, but backward to other quiet sunrises. I remember how I used to get up and watch the sunrise through the patio of our apartment when I was growning up. There were also those too few mornings when my grandparents lived in Michigan -- I would sometimes sneak out of the house with one of my grandparents to go fishing in the Kalamazoo River.
The past few weeks have felt like a storm was gathering. Restlessness, anxiety, and irritability reigned above short bursts of fun, joy, and laughter. It hasn't been fun for anyone to be around me (least of all for me.) The internal dialogues I've had lately have been dramatic and quite negative.
This morning as I reclined on the bench in the dark with only the crickets for company, it felt like the storm had finally blown over. I could feel the storm breaking apart last night, and this morning, in spite of the clouds in the sky and the threat of rain, it feels like the storm has passed.
I had just taken another deep breath, drawing out the exhale when our phone rang - just Hubby with a question he had forgotten to ask me before he left for work. After the call, there was no point in delaying the inevitable any longer. I went upstairs to finish getting ready for my day. Within minutes, the clowns were awake and commanding attention. All that remained of my ten minutes of peace was a lovely memory.