4:30am

The one thing I really love about the summer is how light it is in early morning.
I feel like a a happy sunflower poking my head out of the soil when the sun starts to come up at about 4:45am.
Thank God my husband is an early bird like me. We will hit the beach for our morning run at the crack of dawn. The pigeons are out patiently awaiting their breakfast. The usual morning dog walkers are out. "Karen' with her frisky little papillon. One guy with his two well behaved basenjis. Another guy with his two well dressed afghan show hounds. "Sylar" (this guy looks like the bad guy "Sylar" from the show "heroes") with his big scary rottie. At the other end of the beach, a lady with her trio of spastic pugs are out running around in various directions. It is just plain wonderful to be out with the sun shining and a cool light breeze blowing.
One of my most favorite things in the world was when I would take my motorcycle out at dusk to drive up to Hampton when I lived in Maynard. Even though when the forecast for the day was predicted to reach the 80'sF I would still dress in full leathers. The wind would suck the moisture and heat right out of you while you riding especially at a long distance.
Sure, I could have made it to Hampton from Maynard in perhaps an hour and fifteen minutes if I went on the highway but I hated driving highways. So instead, I took the back roads all the way up.
If I left my apartment by 4:30am I could reach Hampton by about 8:30-9:00am if I didn't make any stop-overs (other than the needed "pee stop" and "I gotta get the circulation back in my numb fingers" break at Burger King in Danvers). Occasionally on my journey I would stop at "my friend Johns" house and or my Aunt's condo since they lived off of route 1 and route 1A.

By the time I reached Hampton beach I was frozen, exhausted, my arse was completely numb and I would have a two inch snot dripping from my nose. My lipstick acted like flypaper.
Who said bikers were sexy?
My lips were an entomologists dream. I must of had a hundred bugs stuck to my mouth by the end of the trip. Yes, I can tell you what a lady bug taste like. They kind of taste like nail polish remover (They are really bitter).
At the Hampton beach boardwalk, there was a little coffee shop that sold green Mountain coffee in about a million different flavors. I would park my bike at the breakers, grab a delicious hot cup of Irish cream flavored coffee and quietly defrost in my leathers sitting on the beach while watching early morning beach goers frolic in the waves. Yes, people would be in bathing suits running around while I would be fully dressed head to toe in a leather jacket, pants, tall boots and gloves, shivering. That cup of coffee tasted like liquid heaven.
When I think of times like this I really miss my bike. I loved the feeling of the wind hitting my face, the heated smell of the engine oil, the sensory over load of the air around you, that feeling of independence and that zen like feeling of solitude. You know the old expression, "if I have to explain you would never understand".
Ahhhhh, I miss my bike...

*photo credit: "Mrs. Ballard's Parrots' by Arne Svenson