Another predawn (and I mean really predawn) start to the day. And a predawn breakfast. It's been many a week since I had a leisurely wake up! I'm thinking -- we both look and feel tired.
Still, there are benefits to being up this early.
(Sunrise on a misty morning.)
(First beams of sunlight hit the crab apple and its steady stream of visitors...)
(The little red apples sparkle from the wet air, the leaves look as gold as bricks of the real stuff from Fort Knox.)
Normally, I like to check our variously positioned mousetraps before Ed leaves for the day. If there's a catch, he gets to ride with the critter to some far away fields. (November is the month where we have a steady parade of these guys, looking for a place to settle in for the cold months.) But I neglected to inspect the trap in the basement and by the time I do check it, Ed's gone. And yes, there are two mice in it. I'm stuck with taking them away.
On the upside, it really is a pretty morning to be driving along country roads!
(By the time I turn around and come back, the sun has done away with the fog.)
Most mornings, I set up shop in the kitchen. My computer faces the garden and I have a pretty view of the changing landscape. Today I glance up and notice another visitor, this one substantially larger than a mouse.
Oh, the signs of the coming of winter! Still no frost though. My annuals are going strong even though it is November.
And it's another beautiful November day! There's no question: I pick up Snowdrop and we head for the little park where she runs with abandon toward the playground.
In some ways, Snowdrop reminds me of Ed: she, like him, likes a challenge! At the playground, she gives short shrift to the swing and shrugs with indifference at all three slides -- she's mastered them all! What's the point?
Ah, but the life guard's chair, perched on a steep ladder? Yeah!
The future life guard of Bernie's Beach!
And how are you going to get down, little one? I expect the often repeated words -- I need help, but instead get her now even more frequently stated -- I can do it!
At home, she should be resting already, but I have to admit, it's hard to interfere and put a stop to the games she invents for herself. (Here -- brushing penguin's hair while riding on a hippo. Why not?)
Later, much later, as we play in her room, I poke into her closet, looking for a jacket for her to wear later this week. She sees me. "Yellow jacket!" she wants to put it on. "Bunny rabbit on it!" Yes, that's right -- there's a bunny rabbit. She is insistent. "Put it on!"
Why not... Does it make her feel snug? Does a bunny rabbit bring her reassurance in life? Who knows... She is happy. The jacket stays on. For a short while anyway.
Her parents come home... the sun fades... all is calm... All is as it should be.