I'm not an early riser. Once in awhile, though, I greet the dawn coming from the other direction -- night. During those increasingly rare times when my night turns into my day, I love to watch my city wake up. This morning, for example, I found myself driving through Glendale at a little after six. The Borders bookstore at the corner of Broadway and Brand was closed, only dimly lit. However, across the street on the North side of Brand, a men emptied a delivery truck while on the opposite side of the street a garbage truck was being loaded. On a Sunday morning? Go figure.
Soft clouds tinted not by a sunset but by a sunrise wrapped the early morning city in gentle promise. The all night do-nut store proved its mettle. The door was wide open.
Every city greets the day in its own special way. Manhattan comes to life with shouts and honking horns and screaming sirens. Its nights are much shorter than those of sleepy Glendale. Despite the song, it does sleep otherwise I would never have helped it greet its day. Even Las Vegas awakens.
Every city greets the day in its own special way. This morning Glendale, California, promised a day of hope and by evening it had delivered on that promise.
Every city greets the day.