RITUAL. 5:45. Grind some beans. Fill the mug. Shot of Baileys. Venture out to west end of the field with Frankie chasing those damned squirrels that he never, ever catches. Watch the sun melt the fog off the lake. (When I do this, I always get this indescribable feeling like this was somebody else’s walk, and Im just tracing their footsteps.) Or, like- someone else is there? It doesnt happen anywhere else at camp. Just that path, and just at sunrise. Anyone else ever experience something like that? (There’s also the distinct possibility that I’m just nuts.) But whatever it is, it’s peaceful. #MorningCompany

April 2, 2015 • Published by Tereasa Surratt