Walter in the Spring
Saturday 14 March
7 am, 42 degrees
Waning Crescent Moon
I woke early to the sounds of Walter pushing Mojo’s food bowl around my desk. As my consciousness was swimming up from dreamland I thought surely there was some wild creature digging through something up against the North yard fence.
Nope. The cat who normally exhibits the dignity of a graduate of the British Butler Institute was behaving like a hungry toddler throwing dishes around instead of using his voice.
Last night he went through the house winding up the other three cats, then promptly disappeared into his favorite quiet sleeping place.
Maybe our 12 year old ginger fellow is feeling some Spring fever. He is roughly 69 human years old; it’s likely some part of him wants to buy a red convertible and drive around listening to Bob Seeger, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, and the Grateful Dead on full blast.
Walter does have an affinity for British crime drama. It could be Mozart, Wagner, and Verdi blaring from the speakers of a red Mark II Jaguar, à la Inspector Morse.
I have enjoyed this First Waking. Cats and dog fed, fresh water in bowls, I have taken my morning meds and broken my fast. The kitchen even had a tidy up.
Now I’m going back to sleep to the sounds of the morning bird chorus. Cardinal, Song sparrow, Carolina Wren, and Crow create an interesting melody.
I hope you encounter beauty and love today, friends. Peace out ✌️
