Plantboy would like it duly noted that he did not catalog trees on our honeymoon video while I was sleeping. He cataloged trees on our honeymoon video while we were at Butchart Gardens. Either way, it watches like a documentary. And not an interesting one.
I wake up at three every morning. For those of you new here, it is for a paper route, and not for some noble reason like scripture study, or cooking my family an enormous breakfast or curing cancer. It is safe to say that this early wake up is hard nearly every day. Every. Single. Day. If I could got to bed at eight, when the kids do, it probably wouldn't be so hard, but I'm working on preserving my marriage too. Though perhaps, it might be argued, at the expense of my sanity. Only time will tell.
Anyway, three a.m. on cold, wet winter mornings is especially difficult. Even if there is no rain, this time of year is generally overcast and sometimes foggy. The humidity penetrates every hair on my head, bringing new life to the term "frizz." Sometimes the wind blows.
And then sometimes, it is clear and beautiful. Oregon's air quality is better than any place I've ever lived, and when it is clear, all you have to do is get a few feet away from a street light to see the stars in sharp relief against their inky backdrop. On such mornings, my heart soars as Orion watches over and keeps me company. On such mornings, my job seems like an enormous blessing instead of the craziest thing I've ever spent 2 years, 2 months, 1 week and 2 days at. But who's counting?
So while I don't exactly love my current job, I do love starry, starry mornings.