Before light

I like the early mornings in fall, just before we're forced to change the clocks yet again.It's dark and quiet, and the sky takes its time revealing what the day will bring. This morning it's a wool blanket of grey cloud. I haven't checked the weather, though I'd guess rain.The rumble of cars and empty trucks on Main, their trailers rattling, doesn't start until just before light. It's almost as if everyone gives the dark a little more time before speeding off to Tim Hortons to grab what they consider coffee.I'm inside these days, looking out our large kitchen window. I haven't sat by the river many mornings this year. It's not because of the three skunks who waddle through the neighbourhood at odd hours -- though that would make a decent excuse -- it's more a kind of laziness I seem to have been practicing all year. Maybe once winter arrives and the ground turns white, I'll be spurred into action, and instead of hibernating or escaping somewhere warm, I'll go jump in a snowbank.