Fajr wakes us up while it’s still dark. We groan a bit to each other and thank God that our religion isn’t so loud so early. But we don’t really begrudge it, I think. The quiet minutes after Fajr, before we slip back into sleep, are wonderful. Especially in the winter when we have heavy blankets to huddle inside while we listen to morning birds in utter darkness. And especially in the summer when we sleep in the courtyard with nothing between us and the sky but a thin mosquito net and a sensually warm breeze. Especially anytime, I guess.