Probably the time of day when I most love living in Los Angeles. Early morning. When nobody is yet awake and I can pretend I live somewhere else.
For some strange reason (though I'd hazard a guess it's due to my INFJ personality), I love the quiet hum of air that buzzes through the trees, catches on a sunbeam, and delicately flirts with the pavement while I stand, walk or run as an audience of one. Taking it all in. Not having to say or do anything in response. Just be.
Does this make me selfish? Or appreciative?
I have yet to find out.