This Sunday morning, I am up before the sun. My toddler daughter and I have breakfast; I clean oatmeal from places I didn’t even know oatmeal could go. Once I corral her into clothes and miniature sneakers, we head out the door.
It’s one of those beautiful fall mornings when the sun is warm and the shade is cool. I push our little girl in her stroller, watching her feet kick as we walk in the direction of her favorite park.
We pass only a few people; it feels as though the hushed, sunlit town belongs to us. We play at the park for a golden hour, chasing squirrels and swinging and sliding down the slide.