The Witching Hour

Isn't there something wonderful in being up and about in the early morning hours (sans drunken stupor of course)?! Alright, so I suppose I'm referring more to the state of already being up at that time, either at the end of a night or for some ulterior purpose, say during a journey, or to stargaze, or some other such motive, rather than the act of having to get up early-bird style for work... The latter in itself is, I concede, a chore, but once up there's nothing to stop you making the most of things and appreciating the dawn. 
At this hour, country-dwellers are blessed with an infinite of stars to behold, whilst their urban compatriots have the surreal wonders of a sleeping city. The eerie calm that steals across the land for those precious few hours around 3am (or 5am if we're on the continent) turns the working world into a hazy memory, a mirage in the distance of "tomorrow"...

And seemingly anything becomes possible in the twilight. We are more daring: despite our minds' increased sense of paranoia, insisting on offering any and every danger as a what-happens-next scenario, we brave the night and journey on. We dare to dream: what the future has in store for us what we might like to do, given the chance, who we might be with for each of the above... We are more prone to ponder life's great questions - and what's more, we're like to find clarification at this tranquil hour over most others without their busy frenzy of distractions. It is a time for thought, for musing, for gazing and seeking, and, hopefully, finding. 

Gradually, the sun begins to peep over the horizon, and so either we head to bed to rest our weary heads, or we face the day ahead with that edge of perspective that only one who's seen the day's sunrise can have (be it of clarity and wisdom, or merely a smugness and entitlement to gripe for having been up the longest... either way). Evidently this idea does not hold the same romantic charm on a rainy day, so far be it from me to oblige philosophical wanderings during a 4am downpour. No siree. But what I'm saying is that if or when you do find yourself in the limbo that lies in wait between dusk and dawn, use the surreality to gain perspective over your own affairs, appreciate the certainty of the sun breaking into a new day, make your decisions and resolutions and then go out and stick to them. 

The morals of this story are: 
Live well the day you're given, and love what you're living. 
If you don't like it, change it, and if you don't change it, like it!