Time change messes with me.
Even the good one in the fall when we gain an hour of sleep.
It doesn't help.
I awoke on schedule at 5 a.m., except it was 4 a.m. with the time change.
After rolling around for half an hour vainly hoping to add sleep, I gave up and got up.
At least the sun comes up earlier now.
And the change was a good reminder to start stretching out my morning rambles with Storm. Small-game seasons open on Saturday and much of that hunting will be a day-long hike through thick grass and brambly cover.
Time to stretch into our winter walk. We swang out along the brush by a railroad track, then up a rare fence row by a corn field, then along the back side of a small lake and into our regular morning ramble around the town pond and home.
The extra hiking makes our walk closer to 2 or 2 1/2 miles than the usual 1 1/2.
Two pairs of Canada geese tucked into the reeds along the steaming water of the town pond. On the far west side, so they could catch the rising sun. At least that was my guess..
Fish fry swirled off the shoreline. I'm guessing warmer water was piled up along the oouthern shore by northly winds yesterday.
Squirrels bedeviled Storm in the early light. Evil in my heart tempted me to turn him loose on them, but it is Sunday.
Strangely, we didn't roust a single rabbit. I don't have a good guess why we didn't see even one rabbit.
No pheasants. But that is not big news. Pheasants are so rare any more.
More geese called a distance south of town. But I couldn't tell positively if it was real Canada geese or guys calling in the early light.
Storm and I left tracks of my heavy shoes and his paws in the backyard frost when I cut us across to check the thermometer on the garage.
29 degrees. Nov. 1.
Cold enough to make tough typing, but not impossibly cold. Not yet.
That will come in due time.