Morning Person

I awoke early this morning, the last day of my trip to Belgium, and went for a walk.

The sun was just beginning to rise.

The streets were clogged with delivery vans and garbage trucks.

One lone tourist stood on Saint Michael’s Bridge, attempting a perfect snapshot of the three towers of Ghent.

I joined him. 

The city was hardly calm, but the light was soft, and there was an excitement about being up and out before most everyone else. 

I wish I could bottle this feeling, and take precious little whiffs of it on those nights when I consider scrolling or otherwise staying up too late.

“You could be a morning person,” I want to say to my eleven o’clock at night self. “You could feel this everyday.”