It seems that the minutes right before dawn are the most quiet. While sitting here this morning as the world started to lite and the birds began singing, my mind traveled back to sitting in a window; in a second floor attic bedroom; with my brother at my side as a young child.
Dan and I would often wake up early and sit in our window and look out on the world and what I remember seeing were grey mornings. I'm sure there were some sunny ones too, but I remember grey.
The memory is a good one.
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