An earlier alarm, a nice morning walk

I reset my alarm clock this morning, from 6 a.m. to 5:30. When I was laid off last fall, I decided I could sleep in 30 minutes longer, with no more mandates to be dressed and at my desk at 7 a.m. My wife, who had been rising after I stepped out of the shower, did not have to be at work so early, so a later alarm setting would work fine for us in our new reality.

But finding time to exercise had become more and more difficult for her. Working longer and longer hours, she rarely left work early enough to go by the gym, go for a run or pop an exercise video into the DVD player. (During  the time when I was working until 6:30 or 7 p.m. and she got off at a more reasonable hour, I would come home each night to find her in the spare room working up a sweat in front of the TV.) She decided at last that the only way she would get exercise would be to do it early in the morning; thus, today we went back to a 5:30 wake-up call and a half-hour of brisk walking.

I once swore I'd never get up so early ever again. Spoiled by the life of a not-too-dedicated college student accustomed to awaking at 8:30 to make a 9 o'clock class, I found the 5:45 reveille at Officer Candidate School 35 years ago way too early for sensible people. I swore I'd never get up so early again, and I was able to keep that promise for a while. But working for an afternoon newspaper, which gathers its news primarily in the early morning, I found myself setting the alarm at 5:30 to make that 7 a.m. appointment with my desk.

Being laid off has given me an opportunity to enjoy the morning instead of rushing through it in a mad dash to the office. A 35-minute walk through the neighborhood streets, accompanied by an ever-eager dog, is splendidly pleasant this time of year. At 5:45, the sun is still below the horizon, but the light is soft and clear. The neighborhood is quiet, and few houses have lights shining through windows. A few walkers are up and about at this hour, but the neighborhood is serene in the subdued light. By the time our circle is complete, the sun is peeking through the tall pines, casting spotlights on houses and lawns.

I don't know how long we'll continue this routine. A job offer could change my life again as much as a layoff did last fall. And 5:45 will not always be so luminous. Daylight will peak in three weeks, the begin its long decline toward December. When the daylight shortens and blustery cold arrives, these early morning walks will not be so pleasant. Morning rains will fall from time to time. But for now, we'll enjoy the dawn and the quiet solitude of a neighborhood just beginning to awaken.