Early morning silence is not like other parts of the day. They say in space there is no sound just deathly silence one hundred percent pure like drinking a river from its source. Crystal clear without contamination. I lived up in the high country. I would rise around the time of this writing, open my door and observe five , six, ghostly white kangaroos looking at me. I would trudge up the hill observing the night sky with its eternity of stars , some have already died or in the state of a Bardo holding pattern. Sometimes I might be startled by old man wombat as I circled God’s creature in the silent heartbeat of morning/night. When I got to the big house I would start with my coffee, if it was winter I may start the fire before the others came in. Then silently make my way to the Gompa ( meditation hall) prepare the bowls filling them with water just below the brim, turn on some small lights, and find my spot, my rotting hulk covered by a shawl as I silently read prayers. That part of the day feels so sacred different say to noon or even night when you lay down to dream. The early morning felt like God had entered the room with you. It’s like you are in a space where time itself is suspended where you are floating in a bubble like in 2001 Space Odyssey and then you hear Bach and you know it’s all good, it’s always been good, and you sit in the glorious silence waiting for a prayer.