Saturday morning, early because some short furry member of the household insisted that I get up before 5 a.m., I am puttering around trying not to feel grumpy and tired. But I am grumpy and tired. Said furry member of the family has long since gone back to sleep when I notice the sun tipping the tops of the trees out back.
I hurry her awake and we go outside, slipping on the frosty deck and almost falling, but feeling decidedly less grumpy. I take a few shots of sun on birch. Katie stands hopefully in her kennel.
And then I notice this:
Two sandhill cranes flying silently across the sky. Amazing. And I would have missed it if someone hadn’t insisted I get up.
I forgive her.