If you are not a morning person, or you have never been to the mountains, or you have never experienced the mountains in the morning, then I am sorry.
On mornings when I have to get up for work, sometimes I have to drag myself out of bed. There's the alarm, then the snooze for a few rounds. But on mornings that I'm going to be in the mountains, I can get up at ridiculous times of the morning because it's worth it. I don't know which is the best part. The light. The air. The fact that the animals are active and few humans are stirring. Maybe it's cool freshness, with the scent of pine hanging around.
And the sunrise! I love to watch the mountains wake up. In the first light, they are just dark lumps against the horizon. As the sky gets lighter, they take on definition and shape. When the first light hits them, they begin to come alive. First a deep rose, then pink, then gold. The light doesn't hit the valleys right away, so the light will highlight various points that are ever changing as the sun continues to rise. I swear the morning is when the mountains are itching to tell their secrets, but the rest of the day they are as solid and silent as the soldiers at Buckingham.
Maybe there's fairy dust. It's as good an explanation as any.
(I'm pretty sure I've posted about mornings before, but I can't help it. They're just that amazing.)