I´m not much of a morning person. Just ask Robert. He emerges from bed happily chattering while I´m more likely to quietly brood through the first 60+ minutes of my day and wait for my personality to awaken. Since beginning Weight Watchers though, I´ve willingly, or semi-willingly anyway, thrown off the covers earlier and earlier each day to accomplish my work-out, knowing full well that, for me at least, the likelihood of exercise decreases as the day progresses. Still, I´ve never understood those Folgers coffee commercials with the woman who silently slips down the stairs while the rest of the family sleeps so she can savor her coffee and the sunrise. Until today.
Today we set the alarm early for a brisk morning walk to offset last night´s amazing lemon mousse before the schedules of the day began. We planned on a trek to the nearest village, but ten minutes in, a road sign clarified that we were heading the opposite direction we had intended. Yet I could never say we went the wrong way. Because we passed a babbling brook, a field of dill, two horses that sauntered over to the fence and eyed us expectantly and with a friendly neigh. Then there was the ferocious guard dog who barked furiously, clearly suspecting we were there to steal his herd. City slickers that we are, we couldn´t come to agreement about the species of the herd. Robert claims they were shorn sheep while I maintain they were goats. Nevertheless, they bleated/baa´d their greetings. And beyond all these roadside landmarks there were gloriously green trees and then meadows that skirted the indigo mountains. A sky held both a blinding morning sun and a nearly full moon. And a peace not even the occasional passing car could spoil.
And the beauty and the aura and the energy made me think that even without the exercise or the Folgers, I would awake early for this. Perhaps Spain has made a morning person of me.
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