In the barest of early morning, Stormy and I head out to greet the day. We're met by Tank some mornings and other mornings he sleeps in. With the earliest of falls changes in the air, the sounds of early morning start the day in the calmest of ways... most days. One day last week, there was a skunk in the yard, so that was not calm as we beat a hasty retreat before the dog could engage the 'kitty' and the skunk could engage it's defense system.
I usually get a run in as early as I can to beat the heat. If not, then I sweat and regret the run back up the hill to the house with the sun against my back, but I do it anyway.
I hang my laundry on the line. Consistently, it prevents firing up the 220 volt appliance and I gain benefits from it, my clothes and household textiles last much longer and look better and the carbon footprint is lowered.
I work in the garden. I feed the birds. I sometimes sit on the porch and rock.
I really love to sit on the porch and watch the birds and rock.
I miss having kids underfoot while I do these things. And many days, I want to whisk away the kids that I know from their electronics and their too busy lives in the man-made jungle and toss them into fields and take them to the creek to look for things. I want to see them climb trees and fish in rivers and build a raft from stuff they find. I want to slow them down and give them time to breathe and figure out what the world is made of. I want them to hold a kitten that's still wet from the womb and 'get' what the maternal nature is of a mother cat. I want them to plant a seed and have to wait to watch it grow and someday, down the road, to pick the fruit and cook it for themselves, or maybe even eat it standing in the garden, fresh from the plant and still warm from the sun.
The last thing I do each night before I turn in is walk the dog. We walk, under the moonlight, again accompanied by the night creatures chorus and the stars.
I recommend it, whether or not you need to walk a dog!