The days get lighter later, but when the sun does show she still feels warm and loving to these old joints and bones. The cars seem louder in the dark, rolling down the way, but the birds can still be heard wishing us good day. I smile and laugh. I like to sing, though birds put me to shame. There’s always new sights and smells; it’s just the route that’s same. Molly sniffs the world for news. I’m admiring Nature’s frock. The best part of each morning is when we walk the block.