I woke up at 5 today. This wouldn't have happened had I not slept at 9:30pm last night. I know, I live the life of an old granny, there's no need to point out that sad fact to me.
This is actually a rare occurrence, the morning get up that is, not the early sleep. As someone who really treasures her sleeping time, I usually only have a narrow window of time in the morning to get ready before I need to run and jump to the car. Usually it would already be in motion, driven by a mother who is ignorant of her own daughter's yelling and bawling.
So there I was, meandering around my room, when I realized how much alone I was. The sky was still dark, and the eager morning exercisers bunch had not swarmed the street as yet. The birds were still chirping happily, and everything was just ... well, quiet.
I took my time to get ready and prepare my breakfast. The smell of the brewing coffee tickled my nose and I was grinning from ear to ear. I had my iTunes playing some music while I started reading chapter 23 of Huckleberry Finn and munched my breakfast.
I was very much absorbed in Huck's adventure when the song by Josh Rouse came up. Music is usually just a melody for me, a background noise for whatever I'm actually doing at that moment. But this time, the lyrics caught my attention. I played the song again.
Quiet Town
I know somewhere there is a party going down
Interesting people, conversation to be found
I've lived in cities where there is no solitude
I've made some friends here that I hope I never lose
But, for now, I want to stay in this quiet town
The neighbors on my block, they've got stories to tell
This is the grocery, but, once was a hotel
And Mr. Driskle he just stands there with his smile
Inviting everyone he sees to come inside
This is the life, I want to live in a quiet town
Ohhhh, sometimes I miss the show, I learned a long time ago
Ohhhh, sometimes I miss the show, I learned a long time ago
Come Sunday morning, there's a market on the square
Children are playing, bells are ringing in the air
Old men are drinking, it's a lazy afternoon
Content with thinking that there is nothing to do
But, for now, I'm going to stay in this quiet town
In this quiet town, in this quiet town
The song really evoked memories of my time in Madison and Minneapolis. As I was listening to it, I could actually see the busy farmer's market on Sunday morning. Fathers were trying to keep pace with their children, who were too busy running around and being oblivious to the surroundings. The mothers would visit the various stalls, on a mission to choose which warm homemade bread and lovely flowers to bring home. The sun was bright and after 9 consecutive months of cold weather, everyone couldn't help but to wear that big goofy smile on their face.
I was enjoying that memory when it was suddenly gone and replaced by the crowd scene at the Terrace. Everyone was drinking beer while listening to the live music and enjoying the cool breeze and the view, the gorgeous Lake Mendota view. At one table, someone would be alone and immersed in their favorite book, while at the other table, a bunch of young people would be taking turns to inform the world of their idealistic point of views.
Suddenly, I was at my favorite local breakfast place, Fat Nat's at Minneapolis. It was just a simple fare of scrambled eggs, pancake, and a cup of coffee. I drowned myself in my reading, while once in a while, I couldn't help but overhear people's conversations. Sometimes, I peeked a view over my reading and observed the various people in the room. Some large and small groups of families, some couples, and a few loners scattered in the room. Everyone was busy with their own worlds. I was completely content to be a mere nobody in that room, detached from the world, a distant observer of the humanity.
Suddenly mother's voice woke me up from my wandering. It was time to go. I quickly ate the last bite of my breakfast and raced mother to the car. There was no way I had to chase the car again today, not when I woke up earlier than mother.
This morning quietness, I can get use to this.
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