I commute to work every morning. As the sun is crawling out of bed I clamber into my car and head down well worn roads. After my day at work is done, I will traverse them all again.
The very first drive, the one taking me to my tasks for the day, is different from any other drive. Perhaps it has something to do with my love of mornings, perhaps something to do with the first rays of sunshine touching my face, or perhaps it has to do with the cars that share the road with me.
Mornings are still sleepy. The world takes time to stretch, blink, and then yawn as it wakes up. People are rarely in a rush, traffic is slow as commuters drink their coffee and listen to whatever wakes them up best. I wonder what I would hear if I listened inside each car? Maybe the news, motivational music, a favorite podcast, or perhaps conversations on what the day holds.
No one speeds, it isn’t worth the bother to try and get to work early. The late risers and lingerers over breakfast haven’t left the house yet. All the people on the road are punctual, who left in time to blink at the green light before moving.
Morning traffic is a special type of traffic. Often in the mornings I can feel the leftover peace of sleep emanating from the cars around me. We all have one goal, to get to our tasks of the day, and we know we will get there, because we have every day for a long time. It is predictable and calm. Rather like the tide flowing in every day.
All this to say, I wish I could keep the morning traffic feeling with me all day long.
Shaina Merrick
The Beauty of a Story 