The world is different at night. Those early morning hours before the sun rises, it seems no one is awake, no one is moving around ready for the world.
Even if you live in a big city. Maybe you hear some far off traffic. A train somewhere in the distance. Still it seems the world is your private microcosm.
There’s not much one can do at 4am. There are no appointments to keep. No errands to run. No one to call. Polite society (and even maybe not so polite society) are, too, in their own little secular places.
It’s quiet, mostly. It’s serene. The crickets are quieting. The birds are stretching.
All there is to do is reflect, to write, to enjoy the chill in the pre-dawn air, and the peace that has not yet been disturbed.
It’s a special time for us, artists, writers, thinkers to belong. We are separate but together.
I’ll (not) see you there.
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