Saturday Seven AM

Up at seven bells on saturday am, before the night chokes. The ave is empty save a few dog walkers and morning joggers. Grab a coffee from the only shop that’s open down here. Take a walk on the side street that I have never walked down before. Hostel. Hair salon. Sad gutter full of leaves and pizza plates. Trees fingerey all falling. Distant car smoke on the busy perpendicular street a few blocks out. Getting the drop on the day, especially saturday, feels pretty sweet. Paper headlines inconsequential, all I need to know is in front of me. That deep blue sky fading into periwinkle moment by moment. Remaining birds testing their lungs scraping out a tune for me. Hits of caffeine raising awareness and prepping for the noon downslope. Last night’s headphone Bach session still rumbling around the old glove somewhere. Foot after foot, minute to minute the big blue gets bigger and my coffee gets colder. Pass a toque-and-gloves early riser and hellos are exchanged. Love the unexpected morning hellos. Always throws a smile on the face. Gray fall in E-Town, past the beauty leaf stage and before the white stuff. From now on it’s head down and ass up into winter. The grind begins.