A Gentle Sunday Morning.

 Last one before wine harvest starts.

The next six weeks or so will see Bob hectically busy and tired. Long, long days in the vineyards. Weekends will be for catching up on sleep and getting set for the new week. It will be his sixth professional harvest. Gosh, how time flies.

Sundays have acquired a new set of structures. First and foremost a good and strong cup of coffee, then a quick turn outside with Maxi, another cup of coffee and then off for the long morning dog walk. The walk that includes joyful sniffing at shrubs, lifting of legs and barking with the sheer joy of being there.

Back home, feeding all the animals and then off again for a longer inspection of our surroundings. Sundays have a magical stillness about them which is simply wonderful. Almost divine, literally. Stillness so vast that one can hear nature and her thoughts.

A day where no time table is to be adhered to, a day where a special breakfast is on the menu and a day where we while time away many pages at a time.

A moment ago I was listening to the birds tweet outside ( gosh, did I feed them their breakfast and is that why they are so vocal? ) while drowning out the sound of two gently snorers. Bob on the couch and Maxi in his basket were almost snoring a duet. Rather cute and comforting.

We mostly wish days away by thinking of what to do tomorrow, next week or next year but to be truly happy is to savour each and every day, starting with one's own gentle Sunday.

Biggi