I like waking up on Wednesday mornings. Tuesday nights we, along with our neighbors, as weekly ritual, scurry in our driveways and position our trash for collection. We carry the blue recycle bins filled with glass, paper and cans to the sidewalk and pull the cans on their wheels from the garage to the curb.
Wednesday morning I wake with the sound of the trucks stopping at our home. The recycle one arrives first. Sometime around six I’ll hear the sound of glass dumped into the truck. Loud. Like a cartoon or movie sound effect outside my bedroom window.
I like waking early to an unusual alarm, rather than the normal beep that I often oversleep. I like waking in the morning to the sound of recycling. Hearing the bottles and jars bounce against each other in their journey. Starting a new day to the sound of things being made new.