Good Morning
04/08/14 05:07
For many years of his life my father earned his living by flying small airplanes in high mountains. This meant that he always wanted to be in the air at first light. Aircraft performance degrades with altitude and with temperature. The warmer the air, the less efficient the propellor and wing. In addition, as the air warms with the day, the currents begin to get stronger and stronger. Mountain wave winds and convection currents can make the ride in a small airplane pretty rough. So it is best to operate at the edges of the day. In those days before the advent of GPS systems, navigation was purely visual. Being able to see was critical. Although there were some evening operations and search and rescue operations occurred whenever needed, flying in the evening was not the best choice. The diminishing light combined with a bit of natural fatigue didn’t make for the safest of conditions.
So we grew up with a father whose boots hit the ground at 4:30 am all summer long. And I learned at a very early age that if I conditioned myself to wak and be ready there were times when I could ride along. And I loved to ride along. Practice operations, when dad was honing skills made a bit rusty by winter; fire patrol, which took us over Yellowstone National Park; game counts, unless the F&G man had to ride along - there were plenty of times when the ability to get up, get dressed and get out the door while it is still dark outside was rewarded by a gorgeous and wonderful morning.
Of course I couldn’t ride along on every trip and so I learned the skills of an “airport bum.” I could check the oil and preflight an airplane. I could pull out the heavy ladder and fill up fuel tanks. I learned to drive the jeep and check the field lights. I climbed up the beacon tower and changed bulbs. I checked with the flight service station and made weather notes. I learned to polish a plexiglass windshield without scratching it. At one time I was spending three or four hours washing airplanes for every hour that I got to fly. It takes a couple of days to wax the belly and wing bottoms of a Beech 18 - most of a week to get the entire airplane to shine. I learned how to pull and reinstall seats in every king of airplane that we flew.
And I grew up thinking that morning was the best time of the day. In the early years of our marriage I would startle my wife with how quickly I would hop out of bed and get dressed when the alarm sounded. These days I use a gentle tone on my cell phone as a reminder of the time and she doesn’t even wake up. And I’ve slowed down a bit on the morning rush. I have learned how to linger over a cup of coffee and the newspaper. Sometimes I can just sit on the deck and enjoy th morning.
There is, however, a big difference between my lifestyle and that of my father. I have a life that is filled with evening meetings and other things that mean that I need to be alert and effective at both ends of the day on many days. I don’t remember my father as much of a napper, though he could sit down in his recliner and be asleep before the footrest was all the way up. He would fall asleep in front of the television many evenings. So I think he would have napped if his life gave him the opportunity. I will frequently nap in the middle of the day as a way of keeping my energy going for the tasks ahead. I’m pretty sure that it isn’t the most healthful thing to sleep after a meal, but I have been known to lie down for as much as an hour after lunch. And I really go to sleep. The mid-day break gives me energy for the rest of the day. I think that I come close to the typical eight hours of sleep out of each day, but I don’t often sleep eight hours at a stretch. It is probably just a matter of practice. I think I could teach myself to sleep eight hours at night, but I’ve never really put much effort into doing so.
The thing about rising before the sun is that each day starts with hope and promise. Even if it s a gray day with lots of clouds, the coming of the light in its increasing fashion is always beautiful. The view to the east and south reveals an increasing ability to see and make out detail. It is hard to be sad when the day is moving towards more light and more beauty. I could watch ten thousand sunrises from a canoe on the surface of ten thousand lakes and never get bored with the view. My collection of digital photographs has so many sunrise shots that I’ve been known to us sunrise pictures for both ends of the day when I am showing slides of a trip.
Beginning each day with a sense of possibility and being reminded each day that today is unique and different from all other days is a genuine gift.
There is another gift of the morning: the gift of solitude. I usually get the morning to myself. It seems that most of our neighbors like to sleep later in the morning than I do. It is common for me to be the first boat on the lake in the morning and others will be launching as I’m taking out. Mornings are time of thinking and preparing for the day to come for me. And when I realize that simple fact, I realize what a gift it was that my father allowed me to invade his mornings, though come to think of it, we didn’t often talk all that much. People who only see me in church or at meetings often don’t know how much I enjoy just being quiet and listening.
It may be that my most appealing quality, like my favorite time of day, shines best when there is no one else around.
One thing for sure. When I say, “Good morning!” I really mean it. The morning really is good.