It's Five O' Clock Somewhere
Can’t you feel it? The Earth just turned over in her sleep. Morning isn’t far off.
I’ve got the stupidest sleep strategy. If I want to wake at 7, I set an alarm for 5. Then I snooze it till 6. Ah, I get to sleep in through two buttons today.
This is wrong for a.) interrupting sleep, and b.) because I should be up at 5:00, but whatever, man.
The 5 alarm is delicious. It’s dark. I’ve got a little time. I imagine Earth thinking this right now.
The rocks have frozen waterfalls in the shadows of the highway cuts. The trees are matching with a stone gray.
But there’s a hint of sap flow. The buds are t here. The trees live. The bees are out flying today, catching sun on their tiny wings, buzzing down to the black waters of the slumbering pond for a drink.
I ordered two apple trees on Friday. (Thanks for the tip, Rich.)
The Big Dipper climbs in the northeast these evenings, while Orion and his dogs trek westward, ever westward, towards the sunset.
The sky is growing empty of stars in the approaching spring. Summer and Winter find us looking across the plane of the Milky Way, but the transition seasons we gaze into deep space, away from the “city lights” of or home galaxy. It’s the best time to spy the tiny ghosts: the feeble glow of distant galaxies unobscured by our own galactic dust and starlight. I found a dozen Monday evening. Their 30-million year old light is a first sign of spring.
The cold will return like sleep, but for an instant, the Earth rolls over, knowing morning is on the way.
It’s 5 O’ Clock somewhere.
–Josh
