First Thing in the Morning
Oil on Wood
It's not the very first thing, but by the time I come downstairs in the morning, Rosie has been outside and come back in and had a bite to eat and settled at the bottom of the stairs waiting (Patiently. Always Patiently) for me to come down. After a quick cup of coffee, I put on my walking shoes, pick up her leash and we are off. Seeing her there, with eager expectation, day after day, rain or shine, makes my day before it has even gotten started. To be enthusiastic about our daily routine. The walk. The town. The new day. That's it. All of it. In a nutshell.