Writing class assignment #2.

From her house by the pond, Doodle duck complains loudly when I open the French doors to let out the dog. “Let me out too!” she seems to be saying.

When the sun rises, chasing away night’s shadows, I visit Doodle and let her out. She follows me from her yard and makes a beeline for the pond, searching for that perfect edge spot from which to launch herself with a splash. In a quick circle about the pond, she dunks her head repeatedly, letting the water run off her back, and takes a few sips before stretching her wings wide, rising from the water to flap her wings energetically, ending with a wiggle of her tail. There seems to be such Joy in the routine – that first dip in the pond where she’ll spend her day noodling about.

This morning was a frosty one, the grass crunching beneath my feet, the sun casting reflections of the few remaining autumn leaves. I relish these moments before the day begins, sipping my coffee and watching Doodle reconnect with nature, as do I.

The birds, fewer in number this time of year, are chirping, possibly complaining about the empty feeder I’m afraid to fill until it’s time for the bears to retire for the winter. Wind chimes ring softly from the trees, adding to the music of the morning. I breathe deep, soaking up the peace of this moment before I head to work and put on my superwoman cape to tackle the day’s problems.

Most mornings, I snap a picture with my phone, like this one. Some days I’ll video Doodle’s routine – unwavering except for her entry point into the pond. I long to capture the feeling, the beauty of the moment, to revisit later. Soon the temperatures will catch up with the calendar, the pond freezing over at night, melting during the day before it becomes solid ice, and the pond closes for the season. Doodle will have to make do with periodic baths in her mortar box, and I’ll miss these magical morning moments until next spring.