In Texas, the heat sets in early. As I navigate my new shift from staying up late to waking up early, I’ve tried to break up the initial shock of lately’s compulsory 5AM internal alarm-clock by spending some time on my beloved balcony. I start seated, trying to absorb some of the pre-dawn serenity sitting across from me. This short-lived attempt at meditation, as with my morning drowsiness, fades quickly. Then, perhaps an attempt to relish this sacred time, I am overtaken by a sort of excitement. 

It could be the solitude that riles me up. Or maybe it’s the contrast from my previous, long-time habit of staying up into the wee hours of the morning, as opposed to rising at them. I started staying up late as a young teen. I wasn’t up to any typical teenage mischief weeknights; I’d sequence through random results on StumbleUpon, scribble thoughts and ideas in lined notebooks, concoct strange artworks with whatever supplies I could find…all while shuffling through alternative hits, all the rage amongst the friends I’d just made after moving to Kansas City. Since then, I’ve clocked in frequent post-2AM bedtimes, and even dealt with bouts of what seemed like a nonexistent Circadian rhythm, leaving me running on hours in the single-digits for 5, 6 days, even a week’s time.

Unlike mornings before work, a reckless routine of snoozing some 8 alarms set with the intention of, eventually, waking up…these days, I find my early mornings much more pleasant and productive. In this instance, I began examining my plant collection through the lens of my bulky, trusty DLSR camera. It’s 11 years old, purchased used a few years ago. My just-waking-up-wrists fumbled its heavy body 

Here are some shots from the scene, a creative pursuit almost certainly prompted by my instant dodging any potential attempt to marinate further on my thoughts.