The roads are usually pretty empty at 6 a.m. Even on the busier arterials, I’ll only see a handful of cars. At a stoplight the other morning, I found myself alone at the intersection. It was quiet and peaceful; I could hear a bird chirping to itself nearby. For some reason, that moment has stuck with me.

Anyway, there’s a string of stoplights along a main road that I take. Some days, it’s all systems go and I hardly have to stop more than once or twice. Other days, it’s quite the opposite and I have to stop for each one of them. At least once every couple days, I have to make a quick sprint in order to make a light before it changes. Because of this, I’ve started to count how many times the “Don’t Walk” signal flashes before the light turns yellow. Some are longer, but I get at least ten flashes before the light changes.