Posts Tagged ‘morning person’

Stellas Fish Cafe, Minneapolis, Minnesota, July 2008, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved

Stella’s Fish Cafe, NightShots Series, Minneapolis, Minnesota, July 2008, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

July summer night
if only I could eat fish
I’d dine at Stella’s

Note: I’ve been going back through archived photos from the last year. This was a drive-by shooting out near Calhoun Square last July. I’d just had dinner with two writer friends and we were giving a Wisconsin native the tour of Minneapolis, including writers’ homes, Birchbark Books, the Mississippi River, the Minnesota Zen Center on Lake Calhoun, and a few great places to eat. The I-35 bridge construction was just meeting in the middle, so we also walked out to see the construction progress at sunset.

When we reached Uptown, it was approaching dark; I looked up to see this great shot of Stella’s. If only I could eat fish! Well, I can eat shellfish but am allergic to all other kinds. Maybe I can stop by after all. As for the photography, I like to write in the morning when I’m fresh, but I’m a total Night Owl and some of my best shots are taken at night.

Last night I was in the studio until 2 a.m. Below are some other Night Owl posts from over the years. Are you a Night Owl or a Morning Person? Has it changed over time?

-posted on red Ravine, Sunday, November 9th, 2008

-related to post: haiku (one-a-day)

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old wagon
Morning Wagon, photo © 2007 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

Mornings, and I find myself on a Friday afternoon thinking about Saturday morning. I love my ritual of making coffee, heating up milk (if I don’t, it will turn the coffee cold, I use so much), watching the light stream through the sliding glass door. We don’t get the morning paper, but if I could, I’d order one up just for tomorrow so I could walk out the long drive past the old wagon and to the place outside the gate where the paper would wait, just for me.

This isn’t living in the present, I know. This moment — right now — is Friday, not Saturday. It is 4:38 pm, not 6:30 am. And yet, I won’t wag a finger at myself for not living in the moment. Maybe I let myself off the hook too easily by telling myself, “It’s all in anticipation for new beginnings.”

And here’s my secret: 80% of the time I would choose a new day over the end of this day. That’s me. Don’t feel bad for me. I don’t.


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