in the morning

I took a walk on the Crossroads at dawn on Saturday for the first time in a long time; Jupiter high in the sky overhead, smell of wood smoke, ice crunching underfoot, sound of a blue jay in the nearby pine tree. It was 8 degrees above zero, fingers and cheeks burning from the cold. I have gone for a walk in the morning ever since.

The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour.
Walden
Henry David Thoreau