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6:20 AM is not my preferred time to be awake.

Anytime before 9 AM is not my preferred time.

10 AM and after is pretty much okay.

But sometimes, for various reasons (can't sleep, stomach's messed due to my diabetes meds, restless, lifemate's snoring too loud, some idiot just went by on the road outside with his car stereo turned to Richter Scale 9.5 vibrato, etc. etc.) I find myself awake.

And although I consider myself much more a night person (I generally start to come into my energy swing about 3-4 PM daily) there is one thing I keep rediscovering about mornings whenever I find myself getting slapped in the face with one:

They really are the most hopeful time of the day.

When it's quiet, like it is now, and the sun is just getting ready to come up over the horizon, and maybe there's a little bit of mist in the trees, so that you can hear the electricity humming through the power lines (and you can only really hear that well when the rest of the city is still in low gear) there's still something... I dunno.. magical about it.

Like maybe today somebody, somewhere will get the idea that it would totally rule if we all just started being nicer to one another.

Or maybe all the total wastes of oxygen who can't see any skin color but their own will suddenly get a grip on the fact it doesn't matter how much melanin you may or may not have; we all want the same things. A place to live, a job, a family to come home to.

Or maybe some politician somewhere will get over trying to be the perfect plastic public figure and go out and DO something about the problems his/her constituents face.

Or maybe somewhere today somebody who fell through the social services cracks will luck up and get the medical care or food or clothing they've been needing for the past few months.

...Okay, maybe that's pretty out of line. Maybe I'm just a dreamer.

But right now, in the morning, I really think I can still believe that dreams might come true.