A Morning Observation

The morning calls for quiet vigilance. Leaving the shelter of the armchair, I carried my small grey companion to the wide stone windowsill overlooking Tropea. A dried olive leaf had drifted past the latch and rested against the marble frame. I inspected it calmly, turning the crisp leaf over with deliberate care before setting it aside, clearing our view. From here, one observes the street below before deciding what the day demands. Order is maintained through patience, never through haste.