So in the still-dim light of the gathering dawn, I watched his ears subconsciously twitch to the sound of a single bird in the bank of trees across the street, and wondered what he was dreaming about. It seemed like one of those moments worthy of a mental snapshot, if only because they don't happen as often as we'd like, and because they seem to disappear into history almost as quickly as they first present themselves.
I don't do this early-morning observation thing nearly as often as I should. If I'm up early - which is ridiculously often of late, as evidenced by this tweet, this one and, oh yes, this one - I'm usually in motion before my feet hit the ground. These pre-dawn workfests usually involve furtive writing sessions in the kitchen, darkened drives to a deserted parking structure downtown, and interviews on-camera or by phone with not-so-random media folks across the country. Which doesn't leave a lot of time to slow down and pet the dog while he snoozes. Or just stare at him as I did this morning.
I really need to change that. Because things have been brutally busy lately. And as a result I've had a lot of early-morning wakeups over these past couple of weeks - hence the relative silence here on the blog - and not enough moments where I slowed things down enough to appreciate the moment. I love this media-centric, tech-filled brand/career/life that I've built for myself and my family, but sometimes I think I need to hold onto the day-to-day of it all a little more tightly.
Because someday we all run out of moments. And I'd hate to think we didn't grab them while we had the opportunity.