I love it in the early morning, when it’s very dark out, and it doesn’t feel like you should be awake, but you’re too alive to care.
I first experienced this when I was maybe eight, and I had a flight at seven in the morning (about an hour after I normally woke up), and we had to grab all of our stuff together, drive to the airport, and eat breakfast. I was forced to get up around three, because we didn’t know how disorganized we might end up being.
It was exhausting but exhilarating. It was so dark out, and the hunger crawling along my insides was alien but freeing. When we were on our way to the airport, there were hardly any cars out on the highway, and the sky was stained with the colors of the amber lights lining the road.
I managed to remain conscious the whole way there, and when the sun rose, the sky was so fresh and clear, I was ready for any adventure to come.
After getting on the stale-smelling, claustrophobic airplane, I didn’t feel the same way, but every time I was permitted to experience that emptiness and isolation before the sun rose, I was excited and free. I love that sensation. It gives me a whole new mindset of journey.