Mornings

There is something magical about mornings in Agy. I’ve always been one of those people who is awake at the first crack of dawn, a chink of light and I’m wide awake, and however little sleep I’ve had, there is no chance of a snooze. So it has been blackout blinds, eye mask and occasionally ear plugs for much of my life to have any hope of sleeping past dawn.  

And yet, I find this has changed. Somehow Agy has shown me a new wakening, a more gentle, and for me, magical awakening. This isn’t just since I stopped work. Let’s face it, a busy commute (have I mentioned that at one point I had years of a 5 hr daily commute?) and working life, however much you love it and look forward to heading into the office, doesn’t make for a slow lazy morning; but no, even at some of the most stressful work periods, when we were away in Agy for a much needed weekend by the sea, my mornings were different.  

I love the view as I slowly wake up.  There is a roof vent above our bed that unless it is really cold,  windy or it’s raining heavily, is usually open. I no longer wake at dawn in the summer, I frequently make it to 7 or 8 am (unheard of in my non Agy life). When I do wake up this is what I see, the sky through the roof vent. 

It isn’t the clearest image, because it’s plastic, and let’s face it could do with a wash, but I’m not getting up on the roof on a campsite, and the special mop is in storage. But, it’s not a curtain, or blind, or hotel room; I spent far too many nights in hotel rooms in my last job. It was a fabulous job, I was honoured to have it and those hotel rooms meant I got to spend time with amazing colleagues and the community I worked alongside and became friends with from across the world. But this isn’t just a view, it is also a hint at the world outside. I can’t see out of a window from the bed, so this is my widow to the world outside. The quality of the light and the sounds I hear give a taste of what’s out there. There’s been baaing (is that a word?), mooing, birdsong, silence, traffic, tractors, heavy rain (I love that sound when warm and cosy in bed), whatever it is, it’s a hint of my day to come.   

And then there’s this.

The cosy nook we sleep in at the back of Agy, We were absolutely right to pick a van with a fixed bed, none of this making up a bed from a sofa each night, a proper comfy bed with Ian sleeping beside me. It feels so safe and is perfect. Ian and I couldn’t be more different in our sleeping habits. I’m a morning person and am often ready to sleep hours before Ian. He somehow wakes up about 11pm and (when not in Agy) would often not be ready to sleep until 3am if he let his natural body clock dictate his sleep pattern, but although Agy hasn’t transformed him into an early morning person, Ian too sleeps well and has a different sleep pattern in Agy. We may be an hour or so out now, but nothing like the 4-5 hrs we used to be. 

It is always me that needs to get up first, so Ian scoots forward hopefully avoiding head butting the TV and depending on how flexible I am, I wiggle round and out I get, popping the kettle on while I head to the loo – sometimes in Agy, sometimes on site.

And then there’s that luxurious first cup of coffee, it has to be coffee – I can only manage tea in the afternoons – I know unbelievable for an English Woman, but it’s always been like that! In Agy there is no hastily downed far too hot cup. We are never in a rush; we can take our time, open the door, look out the window and enjoy the moment.