I never used to be a morning person. I have always been the kind of person who stumbles about blearily in the morning, snarling at anyone who crosses my path, or who just sits in a lump on the couch until my husband reminds me that I might want to get dressed and go to work. When my kids were little, I never minded breastfeeding in the morning, since that is one task that can be done while half-asleep, but anything more strenuous than pulling up my shirt to offer a breast is more than I can handle. My husband, luckily, can function in the morning, and so he has always been in charge of the alarm clock, breakfast, and the kids' school lunches.
Of course, there have always been exceptions. I am somehow able to get up early when I am camping, waking as soon as the first light arrives, to go sailing in the early morning fog, or walk along the ocean by myself, or take a canoe through the mist, or hike a trail while the sun is rising. When I stay in a city, I love to get up early to walk around the quiet streets, watching merchants sweeping their door steps or setting up their wares. During vacation, I can transform quite easily into a morning person.
And now, as I get older, I find myself more and more awake in the early hours, getting before light to read or write or work at my desk. Perhaps it's because my body is getting older, and I wake up in response to the warm energy that spreads through my body just before dawn. Or perhaps it's the result of having teenagers. When my kids were little, the only quiet time I had was at night, after they were asleep, and sometimes I'd stay up late just to enjoy some time alone. Now that I have teenagers who stay up late and like to sleep late when they can, the best chance I have for time alone in a quiet house is in the early hours, while everyone else is sleeping.
Sunrise on a mountain lake. I took this photo a few weeks ago, on the trip I took with my parents.