Last Blooms

Now that the clocks have gone back an hour I can once again take my dawn walks along the seawall with Jen. During the workweek we have to go before she needs to get ready and leave for the print shop. Our window of time—where the sky is light enough for me to stroll without toppling ass over tête and when she departs for the job—isn't huge and gets smaller the closer we get to the winter solstice.

Yes, yezzz, once the limited light days of late autumn/winter hit, Ten will take me for dawn walkies. That's totally awesome but I also treasure my outings with Jen. That and I'm always worried that I'll exhaust them with my stupid levels of neediness. Until I can go for rambles on my own, I try to alternate.

In case I haven't mentioned this a zillion times before, dawn is the best time of the day. It's chock-full of hope and promise. Plus, with respect to walkies, there are few to zero humans out at that hour. I can take the smooth seawall path, stopping every time I catch a particularly captivating scene. No risk, no rush.

My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger,
At whose approach, ghosts wand’ring here and there
Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.
~ Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream - Act 3, scene 2 where Robin Goodfellow reports to Oberon about Titania and Bottom

Ghosts gone to their worm infested cots—GOOD. Almost no potential plague carriers out and about—double plus GOOD! The colors of the sky, water and flowers at dawn are magnificently vivid. What's not to love?

What caught my eye this morning? The last blooms of autumn.