Saturday Morning
The world is asleep. The air is slightly chilly, a welcome change to the uncomfortable heat of last week. I rise from my bed and look out of the window. There are fluffy little grey clouds hovering in the skies above. The birds in the garden are silent, yet in the distance, I hear a single crow. “Caw! Caw! Caw!” It has been so many years since I heard a crow. I do not like the sound they make. They make me feel sad.
The dogs are getting restless. I hear them stirring in Kelly’s room. They wake him up. They know it is the start of the weekend, a time for long walks in the park and meeting friends, both four-legged and humans. “Get up! Get up!” they nudge him. Reluctantly, he rises. Silently he tiptoes down the stairs while the dogs seem to gallop down, eager to be outdoors.
“Caw! Caw!” I hear the crow once more. Where did this crow come from?
I get out of bed, switch on the radio, and let classical music fill the room. Putting on my dressing gown, I head downstairs to make a cup of tea, welcoming the beginning of a new weekend.