I woke up to my alarm this morning, which is no surprise as I'd set it for early. It wasn't so bad though. This, coming from a not-morning person. My roommate at Bard told me that I was, in fact, "the least morning person she had ever met." I wasn't surprised. Morning is not my thing. Sleep is. I didn't leave the window open, so I woke up warm, not shivery and shakey. Good, way to go Alex. It was raining too, and I could hear a train. It sounded close, like it had changed its mind, taken the tracks for what they are, a suggestion of the way in which the average train might like to go, and gone another direction. I imagine there was a creak, a bump, a groan, and all the riders on the train, sleeping unlike me, murmur in their sleep and shift positions. Over the track, the train eases into a track it has chosen for itself, rumbling on earth, sinking in slightly to the moist ground, padded by dewy grass and fallen leaves. I imagine that it prefers this kind of a trip, the kind that's softer and smells like the woods, has a bounce and give. I would choose that way too.
This morning, it was almost OK getting up early. Especially in contrast with yesterday. Text message from Alex, cerca 10 AM yesterday:
worst morning ever
Why? I think I know. It's the rain. It always is.
kind of sounds like the hogwart's express. I love waking up to the sound of the rain too.
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