The wee child stays the night at her dad's house on Saturday. I love the Sunday mornings when I wake up in the early hours when it's still so nice and cool. It's quiet outside and I feel the cool breezes coming in through the window. They tickle my face.
As I lay there and the time passes, I hear the birds awakening and merrily chirping. Then I begin to hear the boulevard come to life off in the distance. I hear the sounds of the wakening world... the smells of breakfast in the kitchens upwind, the kids that have escaped the confines of their homes to gleefully play in the early hours. Yes, believe it or not, they escape that early.
I love to lay there and listen to the orchestra of life on those early weekend mornings.