It's the first post of the season that I'm writing on the deck before leaving for work. It's warm enough to sit out here in shirtsleeves, a delicious reversal from months of chilly mornings.
The windows were open so I woke this morning to the slap of the newspaper on the driveway. An almost full moon was setting as I left the house.
It's a different kind of day when I have a chance to walk before work — more expansive, softer around the edges, routine on the run.
So even though I should be leaving now, I take another sip of tea, linger a little longer with the birdsong and the faraway traffic noise. In a moment I'll get up, shoulder my bag, leave the house, drive to Metro.
But not yet.