wee smalls

So here we are.

Some people get up at 5 AM. Some people go to sleep at 5 AM. But I think there is one thing that both groups of people can agree upon: that after the clock gets dialed back to standard time, there is no darker, colder hour in New York City than 5 AM.

Except 4 AM.

Make no mistake: this city does indeed sleep. I think that Kander and Ebb meant that there’s always someone awake in New York, New York; it sleeps, just not all at the same time.

Yesterday, while my awakening was rude, it was so lovely and peaceful to be on the streets pre-dawn and to see the sun rise over a dozen resting balloons when I arrived at the Thanksgiving Day Parade’s staging area, and not just because it wasn’t raining.  In my long walk to the Upper West Side, everything slowly transformed from utter desolation and darkness with nary a coffee shop’s lights on, to a hazy smattering of people on the streets and purple in the sky, to sidewalks packed with humanity and their morning litter. It was a sight to behold.

As a freelancer, I have ended and begun my days at every given hour on the clock, and I have found that it is much easier to end it in the wee smalls than it is to begin it. Still, when I am forced to rise before there is even a notion of dawn, let alone a crack, it is an incredible reward to watch my fair city change the guard from night to light and consider the possibilities of a new day.

Thankfully, I am only so richly rewarded a few times a year.

Yes indeed. Welcome to me.