Some mornings come slowly like a storm rising on the horizon. Some come gently like a cat's motor running at the end of the bed.
Some show up uninvited and unwanted like a neighbor's yappy dog or a vocal crow just outside a bedroom window. Some morning's first light insinuates itself into the day more than it illuminates anything. That's fine. Other times it shines brightly right in your face, really depends upon the place and which side you're on. It always depends upon which side you're on. Which side of the bed, side of of your head, side of the room or the house, which coast or continent, which side of the planet. At the end of the day, it comes down, simply, to which side you lay down upon, then get up on. Maybe you should try again!