Waking from a fabulous dream, albeit one where my wallet was stolen – an occurrence which has happened to me at least three times and is fodder for another day – I took my morning stroll to retrieve the outdated mode of communication from the bottom of the driveway.
There, staring at me from the yard, in the gently breaking dawn, was a beautiful doe. We just watched each other, with me hoping there was enough green grass for her to munch on so she would leave the trees alone. (So far the septic field has provided the feast in good supply.) It made me wonder who else has been watching when I head down the pavement in the total darkness with my phone flashlight?
I used to be more of a night owl than morning person, and I still prefer that feeling of being the only one awake while everyone else slept. It felt like I was “on watch” and could relax once the morning came. (That’s got to be fodder for a therapist?) However, changing tides of grandparenthood have me rising early and getting my fanny in bed at a decent hour.
The darkness is now my early morning friend and we enjoy each other’s company, cup of coffee in hand.