Before the World Needs Me

Issue #44 · Being an early bird has its perks.

The coffee is always prepped the night before: beans ground, water poured, travel mug patiently set on the counter. A quick flick of the [ON] switch is all it takes when my 6am alarm goes off, as there’s no time to waste — in Mexico, the sunrise is the only thing that’s ever on time.

The ocean is just a seven-minute walk from my front door, so by the time those first peachy streaks of morning appear, my feet are already in the sand. I always bring a notebook and pen, though more often than not, I let my thoughts ebb and flow impermanently along with the waves.

As peaceful as it is, I’m never alone. The beach is dotted with dog walkers, ambitious joggers, and occasionally, a crew of rowdy vampires stumbling home, eager to escape the dawn light that will expose their recklessness. A few local fishermen battle the pelicans for the first lucky catch of the day, and of course, there’s a handful of surfers paddling out before rush hour, their youthful energy and weathered boards promising a solid people-watching opportunity whether there’s a swell or not.

Everyone knows the sunsets here are magic — with a due-west-facing beach and a hot, arid winter climate, the evening golden hour show is not only breathtakingly spectacular but remarkably consistent. It’s the main event, free admission, seven days a week, no alarm clock needed. But the real payoff comes from waking up with the roosters — there's a subtle satisfaction in getting a head start on the day while everyone else is still snoozing that makes overcoming any groggy reluctance to leave my warm bed worth it every time.

I don’t catch the sunrise often, but I should — because with it comes a calm sense of freedom that quickly evaporates once the town begins to buzz. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this occasional addition to my morning routine, it’s that stealing a few quiet hours from the day’s demands, deadlines, and distractions feels like the world’s most obvious, worst-kept secret — but still, sunrises belong only to those who are willing to wake up and claim them.

January 13, 2025, 7:10am — Puerto Escondido, Mexico. A surprise bonus to today’s early morning stroll: I watched the first full moon of the year set over the Pacific Ocean horizon just before sunrise.

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Recommended related posts:

• In Pesos We Trust: At first, living life in pesos was jarring, but I’ve learned to appreciate how a currency can carry the personality of a place.

• Jetlag Diaries — The beauty of inviting chaos, rejecting comfort zones and blindly putting your trust in strangers.

• No Hay Luz — No power, no WiFi, no cell service. Bienvenidos a Puerto Escondido!

PS: I’d love to hear what you thought about this issue. Email me directly at hello@emilyannhill.com and I pinky promise I’ll reply back.