Waking up at 6.15 in the morning is suddenly new again. It's somewhat like going back to a life I've left behind, but only somewhat. This morning while I was walking to the workplace I was thinking about everything that afflicted me these days, not great thoughts. But then I saw the man in front of me tossing bits of bread to the many pigeons that hang around in the field everyday. Sun rays were trying their best to pierce through the dusty air, and they kind of succeeded. Truckloads of foreign workers were sitting around in their trucks. Everything went on like nothing had happened.
Morning air must be good for the soul.