Soft blue light

Driving up to New Jersey in the wee early morning hours before the sun rose, with Claire snoring softly in the backseat, I couldn't help but think about the long car rides of my youth.  They live in my memory primarily as extended hours of laying in the back of the station wagon with my brother eating sociable crackers with easy cheez (I now prefer my cheese not in a spray can, thank you very much) and watching the semi trucks as we pretended they were big monsters.  It was something about the way they looked at night with all those lights.

What sticks out the most in my mind though is the soft greyish-blue light in the predawn hour.  I remember feeling so comforted by it as I woke and then was lulled back to sleep by the steady sounds of the road and the way that light made me feel like I was being wrapped up in a warm blanket.

We were on the road for about 2 hours before that light greeted me last week on our drive north.  It always brings a smile to my face when I find myself awake and in the car when it comes.  Coffee within reach and the excitement of beginning a little journey still with me.  Something about witnessing the waking of the world humbles me in a way that just feels right.  Makes me wish I were a morning person in general, so that I could enjoy it more often.

We'll see.  Maybe some day.  Or some days, anyway.

Or maybe I'll just make a habit of starting road trips a bit earlier from now on.