It was hard to sleep. At most I only got a couple of hours of sleep in at a time and even then it was light sleeping. I was waiting for the alarm with anticipation and sleep was irrelevant. At that point, sleep was almost a chore and a barrier to my destination.  What made that evening's sleep unusual was that I was completely prepared to wake up running out the door. I had already packed everything I needed and laid out my clothes ready to wear. I went so far as to put all of my gear in the trunk of the car.  To expedite my morning preparation I had laid out my clothes so I could slip into them. By slip I mean I already had my utility knife on my belt that was threaded through the loops of my pants, placed the wallet in the pocket, and stuffed by socks in my boots. A zip, button and buckle and I am equipped to leave. I even slept in the shirt I was going to wear the next day.

There were two alarms set on my alarm clock. The first alarm was for me and the second for my wife so she could wake the children for school. Before I even laid down I knew that first alarm could not come too soon.  When the alarm played the classical music station I rose out of bed.  I remember thinking that the act of waking to classical music on mornings like this seem to make the transition from listless sleep to full motion more enjoyable.  It just sounded right waking up to some amazing musical genius to start my day with them encouraging me to learn my own genius. I of course proceeded to my clothes and with military precision I dressed, brushed my teeth and hair.

I then moved about the house in stealth not to disturb anyone else from their sleep. I waited until I was outside to put my boots on to insure my quiet get away. This small time in the house, the time between ready to go and out the door is my time.  It's where I began my transition between the world of home and work and my world of nature.  Here I let the haze of sleeplessness work in my mind and keep me from getting distracted from the things in plain site.  That haze let me walk out of the house without wondering about the house seeing all the things that need to be done.  Wondering things like if the dishwasher was started the night before or checking the trash to see if it needs to be taken outside.  That sweet haze kept me focused on the task at hand;  get to the river, get to the river, get to the river, over and over.

Out the front door at 5:36am.  As with every predawn trip I observed the world at peace. I was still a few minutes away from leaving my house to pick up my partner and friend so we could begin our trip.  I took that time to watch and listen to birds begin their wake up rituals in search of morning insects. I watched squirrels forage around without fear of cars in search of new fallen nuts. I already knew the nocturnal creatures had already gone to their dens, leaving only the smallest traces of debris that they had discarded in their nightly trash can raids.

It is in this moment that I remembered the reason for all my trips. I need to see nature acting upon itself and upon me.