Morning Stillness

4:30 AM. Check weather. Catch up on some stuff in Google Reader.
5:00 AM. Blearily and with reluctance attach my pannier to the rack, throw on the reflect-o-vest. Shove off.

The stillness at this hour always surprises me. My usual commutes are close to rush hour, but even Dark Side Rides, which usually run to midnight or later, are riddled with the hustle and bustle of people making their way around town. At 5, though, the stillness of everything is freakish. Lights are on in some homes, but no one is outside. I was passed by two cars in the half hour I was on the road. Riding along Interstate 35, I'd only see a car or two per minute. I approached the steady pulsating of a FRED on the tail end of a train comprised of empty flatbed cars. Making my way to the idling locomotive up front, I could hear the gentle hiss of air leaking from a few of the brake line couplings. Turning west, I hear critters scurring away from my LED light in the roadside brush.

Any other time of the day, there's just too much going on to appreciate the truly subtle things.