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.