There's a reason I prefer walking the dawn.
This morning splashed that reason all over the sky, land and water.
Leaving on the morning ramble with Lady, our family's mutt, before dawn is my favorite way. That way the sunrise is coming about the time we cross the side rail separating the town from the wildness of the town pond.
Hit it perfect this morning. The sunrise over the south old clay pit was so spectacular that it literally stopped me in my tracks.
(Hello ``rosy-fingered dawn'' and Homer. That's Homer, author of the Odysses, not Homer Simpson, who was named for the original Homer. Got all that?)
Eventually, my attention shifted to other things.
Two sentry geese swam out on the north old clay to greet and meet Lady and me as we rambled up toward the bridge over the neckdown between the two pits. Surprisingly, no great blue heron flapped off from under the bridge. Maybe I missed it flapping off earlier.
Then I noticed another nine geese clustered on the eastern shore of the north pit. Yesterday, I counted 68 geese along the southern end of the north pit. One side of me wonders if somehow they realize that the first Canada goose season in Illinois' central zone closed on Sunday and now it is safe to fly just about anywhere.
The remaining hedge apples on the east side of the south pit, are deteriorating fast. Frankly, they are looking grotty. (Hello, Mark Grote, radio-voice impersonator extraordinaire.)
In looking up the proper spelling for grotty, I discovered that the term was popularized by George Harrison in The Beatles' film ``A Hard Day's Night'' in 1964.
I digress. But it was a good morning to digress. Not much moving.
Dawn fully arrived as we turned west on Station Street.
The chef/cook who runs a food truck for nursery and migrant workers was finishing up loading as we passed.
With that, the day settled into normal Monday routine.