Atypical Tuesday

Enjoying this cottonwood's leaves before they fall.

Since I generally have a haircut appointment first thing in the morning (7:30), those days of my haircut end up being non-walking/exercising/biking days.  Today was a haircut day.  And since I was particularly loathe to give up my head-clearing-stress-relieving-body-moving benefit, I decided spur of the moment to take a walk later in the morning.

And while I sorely missed my daily commune with the sunrise, I did enjoy being out on the trail mid-morning.  The trail is less busy at that time, the only people I passed were aged ladies like me on their bikes and Moms with baby-filled strollers.  The daylight is different at that time.  I so loved the contrast of the shadows and sunlight as the wind set the tree limbs waving.  The added benefit:  I took a book with me and read as I walked which is near impossible when I leave the house before the sun.

The weather is one of those often hoped for, but less often realized perfect fall days with the current temperature of 75 degrees, a mostly cloudless sky, a breeze that stops short of the typical Draper gale-force winds and the light from the sun making things happy.  This is the kind of weather that gives The Husband spring fever in the fall.  I guess that would be fall fever.  The sort that looks for excuses to abandon work and all sense of responsibility and just have some out-of-the ordinary fun.

In the last few days I've received several e-mails from an online reading group site that notify me that someone has liked one of my book reviews.  I am pleasantly astounded that someone finds something I write of value.  It feels like an "attaboy" that I don't really deserve but is so very good for my soul anyway.

And I so like this quote that was shared with me:  "You must do everything you can to make your appearance pleasing, but the minute you walk out the door, forget yourself and start concentrating on others."  --Susan Tanner

And today's gratitude:  that I still have enough hair to cut and style.  It hasn't all deserted me yet. (But it's on its way...)