Monday, January 6, 2025, 7* Sun Rising
Through the trees, a dot on the horizon sparkles. Zsolt barks. One morning I shall stand at this window and watch until the dot can no longer be seen.
Sun turns her spotlight on trees. Deck boards do not speak. Last night as I walked, their voices sharp, cracking in minus two degrees.
Coffee drips. Blankets slosh in the washer. Never a cuddly pup, Zsolt nozzles my hand, or whatever he can reach. He waits as I set down my coffee, move my chair, claims the space under my desk. Zayne comes in for his morning pet, returns to the sofa. Ruger drinks the last of the water.
May you be able to savor each moment, may you see more than the routine of morning, may you see the beginning of your day. I Love You.
Photo: LJ Austin
