Well, here we are on a Saturday morning and not even the birds are up.
It does strike me as somewhat peculiar around here that nobody ever seems to rise and shine early mornings on the week-ends, which just happens to suit me perfectly. I have an extraordinary appreciation for the "quiet times" when I sometimes believe that I am living next door to a cemetery.
We've had breakfast, and gone walkies hours ago, and about the only things we encountered were a few noisy Starlings who are a noisy bunch at the best of times, along with a couple of foraging squirrels no doubt doing their Saturday morning shopping for those family members who haven't left home quite yet. It's really all very pleasant.
I can easily envision myself behind a cloistered wall in a Benedictine Monastery, for nuns. But then there's that perpetual Vow of Silence. That would definitely do me in in short order. The poverty vow, I can handle. Silence...
It's that cold, crisp silence of an Autumn day, or night, that I love so much about the season we are in. It's just cold enough that I can break out into a brisk, albeit short, run--without breaking into a sweat. At the proper time if I time it just right, and we get away from sleepy people in their sleepy houses with their sleepy blinds and curtains drawn, we experience the ultimate early morning joy of hearing the fly-by of the Canada Geese in their crazy formations with their familiar haunting sounds that echo across the early morning sky, forming large groups of as many as five-hundred at a time, until the next group arrives maybe twenty minutes later, and on it goes until there are none left to watch.
It's in these very early morning walks, alone with my dog, that I feel not only good to be alive, but fabulously wealthy.
Fabulously - wealthy!
