Thirteen plus Celsius this morning. Boza and I woke at 4 a.m. and we laid there wondering about getting up. Boza under the bed, cleaning his eyes and pawpaw’s and me happy because Svetochka was snoozing away next to me. But as it is ordained, the world keeps turning and time keeps flowing and all rotten bears and doggies must get up to face the morning a coming…
I swung my feet to the floor and instantly an always ready to walk doggy, popped out from under the bed. Just one thing had to be done before we walk. I had to do first drops in Boza’s eyes and then out the door…
Nothing else is important; Not that cup of coffee, Not any food, Not the internet and Not the fact Boza and I felt like squished bugs on a windshield. We go because we must and walk, we find our friends of the Tiny Russian Village…
Ralph the Raven yelled at us from his pine tree perch. A George the Shrike had a mouth full of bugs and very hungry birdbrains to feed them to. A kitty crossed our path at its peril, for Bear and Dog just love to find kitties. The frogs were hopping all over the roads, in their every year suicide wish to get to the other side. Mamma Eagle was screaming, Good Morning and yet she flew so high, no one could see exactly where she was, but we all could hear her…
Boza and I have an understanding that early morning is the best time to experience the Russian Village and it is our time and our friends time to be together. The sun is just touching the sky, trees and buildings. The air is always crisp and cool. Life is at its peak at three to five a.m.
Thus, it must be so, that we walk!
Have a nice day…
WtR