It was the perfect winter's day for a walk. The sky was a perfect blue, with not a cloud to be seen. There was little wind, which meant that the cold didn't chill your bones. Perfect.
On the planner for this morning were poetry writing, organic chemistry, and the paraphrase of a Francis Bacon essay, but somehow they didn't look very appealing, today. And so this morning's bookwork was cancelled in lieu of something much more fun.
We walked hand-in-hand down the street. I love it that my teenager still wants to hold my hand. Our little dog skittered at our feet. She was happy to be getting outside for a run, too.
We heard the warble of magpies - such a delightful, joyous sound. Maggie and his mate were clearly enjoying the sunshine as much as we were. We saw Willie Wagtails, Wattlebirds, little yellow New Holland Honeyeaters, and other birds busy in the trees.
We looked for flowers: hakea, wattle, red and yellow gum tree blooms, and brought home a couple to paint. Maybe.
(Yes, she looks cold.)
We were only out for an hour or so, and then back, via the bakery for doughnuts. Pink for her, chocolate for me.
Now we're home, and Jemimah's in her room plugging away at Bacon. Somehow we're looking at the world through different eyes.
It really was the perfect day for a walk.