morning, in the country

Jess says she's not even explored up to the stone wall on top of the hill yet. I wake up groggy, my throat scratchy, from staying up into the wee hours to (finally) read Harry Potter. I feel the bags under my eyes, but I'm too excited for this brand new day to stay in bed. She left for work before it was even light out, I assume, and so I wander the house freely, with a glass of water, peeking, pausing in all the rooms to see how the morning light catches each one. The kitty pads after me. There is a note in the bathroom to water the roses and trees we put in yesterday. There's also the fence row to finish weeding. I return to my room and pull on the dusty pair of Carhartts that are on the floor and tie a bandanna on my head to tame this feather-duster bed hair. What's for breakfast? I recall seeing some freckled bananas and raisin bagels. Hiking works my legs; it feels good to rest them and instead work my arms, my back, I could use a stronger back. Grab the gloves, out the door.