I'm a morning person

Much to my night-owl husband's dismay, I'm a morning person. And not just a morning person -- I like to be up when everyone else is sleeping.  There's something about a sleeping house that is remarkably peaceful. Since getting the alarm clock, er, dog, I've expanded to enjoying a sleeping city. This morning, no thanks to the time change, we walked again in the dark. At long last we were accompanied by the scolding of robins and crows who were unaccustomed to our company. I was delighted; robins are the first sign of spring, and their song cheers me like nothing else.  In addition, we witnessed garbage trucks trolling the alleys -- a sight that thrills me now that I have children who get excited by heavy machinery -- and groggy bathrobe-clad people taking the recycling bins to the curb.  My personal symphony also included the rumble of freight trains announcing in long wails their arrival and departure through the rail yard.  Sometimes I am privileged to hear the roar of lions or trumpeting of elephants from the zoo near our home.  Today I did not, but as soon as I returned home I was treated to the cacophany of a waking family.