Although setting out on morning dog walks in the dark (at 7:30) is sort of a drag, the reward is that by the time we get to the dog park at Mayor’s Landing, which is a bluff overlooking the Yellowstone, we get to watch the sunrise over the Crazy Mountains to the northeast. It’s just lovely. It’s so lovely that I stop and look and feel very grateful that I live here. Every morning. The exercise is good, but the gratitude is even better.
So this morning as we turned to head home, I heard what I thought was geese, but when I looked up, they weren’t geese, they were trumpeter swans! Three of them, great big necks stretched out, flying into the southwest.
Things might be a little scary all around — the financial news is bad again this morning, a dear one just got some alarming medical tests back, and the election is making us all very nervous. But on the other hand, the sun is still rising, the river is flowing as it has for centuries, the leaves have turned yellow, and there were three trumpeter swans flying overhead. A good thing.
