There’s something about Sunday mornings, I think they’re magical, especially when the city is still asleep from a long weekend partying. It’s the total silence and the absence of human activity that affects me and knowing that I can enjoy that special moment for a while before it will be gone again for another week.

This morning when I woke up I found myself staring into the back gardens. There was a thin layer of white glistening frost covering the grass, trees and fences. I saw a big fat collared dove sitting quietly, all fluffy, ruffled feathers, trying to catch a bit of warmth from the morning sun. I was wondering where his mate was so they could warm up sitting next to each other.

Then the movement of leaves caught my eye and a smile appeared on my face. I saw a squirrel bouncing around in one of the trees. He paused every now and then to eat and after a while he continued his acrobatic dance jumping from branch to branch, from tree to tree. Squirrels are the epitome of elegant balance and perfection to me, embracing their habitat in their graceful ways.

That’s exactly how I would like my life to be… All that was missing this morning to compliment my thoughts and views was Melodie Opus 42 No.3 by Tchaikovsky.

Fluffy dove trying to warm up in the morning sun

My Squirrel friend posing for me earlier this year in Molly’s garden

To BC…