I am not a morning person.

I used to be, once. I can vaguely remember looking forward to waking up early and being out there in daylight with the mist starting to slink away in shame and that.. “morning smell” as I used to call it. I used to love the sounds the birds made as they chirped about getting breakfast. Watched them hop about, telling each other random stories and singing random songs. I used to watch the wind blow through the trees, the leaves rustling in greeting, and I’d say hi, too.

I’m not a morning person anymore.

I’m not really a night person, either. I like peace, and if you knew where I lived you’d know that night is just as alive as day. Possibly even more alive, because with the night comes freedom, and with freedom comes the carefree joy of temporary irresponsibility.

I have become an in-betweener. The time between the witching hour and daybreak. The precious few moments between dusk and nightfall. These are my favourites. No matter where you are, the hush of these times are ever-present. You may be busy enough to ignore it consciously, but subconsciously, you know the world just slowed down. You know.

Mornings depress me, now. Sure, there is the beauty of the sunrise. The reflection of the sun’s rays picking out diamonds floating on the sea. But there is also the cars. The tall buildings. The smoke rising out of fumigated rubbish bins. I look outside and see the ghosts of what the earth once was. Where a building stands once stood a tree, or a sand dune, or an oasis. A forest, a wood, a lake, even… with an entire mini ecosystem of all five Kingdoms.

Then a car beeps its horn and the image vanishes. I am returned to the present to watch the smoke float into the earth’s lungs, tearing at her alveoli and making her heave with the effort to keep breathing, like an 80-year-old with an asthmatic attack besides.

I am not a morning person anymore because that is when I am most disappointed in what we have done to the world.

I am not a morning person because that is when I can feel the earth choking.

The earth is choking.