The early morning run…

And I don’t mean the jogging one, although in its time it too was fun, but rather that trip to the airport or train station.

My husband travelled a lot and as we were early risers anyway, it really didn’t matter that he often took the first flight out of Geneva at 6:00. For two years we lived just 5 minutes from the airport then  - although all the way across town – there was no traffic: I could get all the way to the airport at 5:00 (remember this was back when arriving an hour ahead of time was not only feasible, but legal and doable) without seeing any other cars and the bonus was sunrise on the way back.  Also the bar was open and we often had a coffee together before he walked through the then-easy security check. When our first son was born, it still didn’t matter as just put him to sleep in his carrycot and threw that in the car along with the suitcase.

In the early 80s we were in our “new” (now 33-years-old!) house and again early in the morning I could get there in 18 minutes without speeding if the lights were all green (and they often were). Now I had not only drive in along the lake as it changed from night dark to dark blue to shades of blue and gray, but also the bonus of sunrise over Mont Blanc as I drove across the one bridge linking left and right banks.

There was a smattering of cars going in and maybe two more coming out – still no big deal.

I continued to take my husband to the airport  - and was probably the only wife in town who didn’t mind doing so at the crack of dawn – as I loved that peaceful time of the world waking up, of seeing it before about 99% of the rest of the inhabitants in our state and town.

Traffic grew, but the early morning run is still not only doable, but pleasant.

My younger son needed to catch a train this morning at 7:15 and was very surprised that I offered to take him in – but oh what a blessing to yet again experience that early-morning calm and the beauty that was this morning before the sun came up!