Since four in the morn

My finger rubs my eyes with a serious contact of skin and I again find myself in awe of myself as it is six pm and I am still standing. I am still thinking. I am still writing. I am still doing the everyday boring things. I am still just being. If you have not figured it out yet, I have been awake since four in the morning. It's an strange feeling when you are awake before sunrise and sit in the stillness of the moment and watch the first rays of sunlight invade the curtain underneath. I just think how exciting it would have been if it was spring; to hear the harmony of bird song to the rhythm of the sun and insects buzz's drowning in the unkempt grass. I think that is the only good thing about spring along with the new burst of life from the greenery. I am more an autumn-winter girl myself. There is something refreshing about stepping out on grey pavements after the rain and smelling the aged bark with its hint of sharp dampness. Or feeling a bite of cold on cheek and nose, and fingers and toes just a right shade of cosy. I now smile to the patterns of my keyboard and think I am due for a walk in the park with my chocolate-sweet-print wellies. I have not worn them for a while. The last time was last year when I ventured out into cold darkness to watch bright colours light up the sky. And stand amongst crowds with fire lit laughs and heat warming faces. Within the backdrop of tree-wood shadows, pancake stalls, beef burger bars and smelly green builders toilets. I missed that event this year, I stayed at home consumed in an altitude of 'can't-be-bothered' and clothed in a 'chill-mood'. I sat on my deep cream settee with laptop on lap, glasses sitting on brow and a cup of red bush and vanilla and a spoonful of honey. I smile again as I think of Mary Poppins. My mouth starts to hum 'a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down...' I love Mary Poppins too. Her name alone floods my mind with childhood memories, a younger me snuggling behind my mums bent legs, near her bottom, on the couch in front of the TV. This childhood snapshot could be during the Christmas holidays or an evening where I have been allowed to stay up late in the dark room dancing to the screen glare. Not to mention the soft snores escaping from a sleeping mouth. And hands hugging a bowl of crisps. I have taken a pause and have come back to written this post. It is 8:30pm and I am still going strong, still focused, still awake, still singing a joy song.