It seems beating the sun up has become a bad habit of late. I’m seriously missing snuggling under the covers until the wee hour of 10 o’clock on Saturday mornings. The only advantage to being up so early is that I can catch the early birds.
A large family of geese were mumbling quiet “good mornings” to one another, as the mist hovered over their pool. I was mumbling too…
By the time I reached my destination, the flocks sheltering in the fields were ready to continue their journey.
O hushed October morning mild, thy leaves have ripened to the fall; tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, should waste them all. -Robert Frost, October
After I did what I had to do, I detoured to a park in town, where I rambled alone with the birds and squirrels. By now the sun had melted the frost and illuminated the “flowers” of the trees-reds, oranges, and yellows. I paused by a waterfall to listen to it bubble, before strolling by a small man-made lake to watch sea gulls weaving overhead and diving in to catch some breakfast. Other birds scolded me from the safety of the bullrushes.
My final stop was on a wooden bridge where I made friends with a large swan, much to the disappointment of another photographer. He had a camera with so many tiers on his lens that it rivalled most wedding cakes. I think the swan liked my pink sweater.
I would have stayed longer but my fingers were freezing and I was ready for breakfast too!
O hushed October morning mild, begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. – Robert Frost, October