Saturday morning has a magic all it’s own. It always has, and I would venture to guess it always will. Saturday morning is a late breakfast with friends; a leisurely walk in the woods; quiet time with a good book; some chores that need to be done that you can do, all on a Saturday morning.
I thought about this today, this Saturday as I was going on my walk, as I watched the people in the park, as I looked at the faces of the kids at play. It was only 7:30 and the park throbbed with activity, with people, with the rituals of Saturday morning.
I watched a young father trying to teach his son how to catch and throw a football. I watched a young mother encouraging the first steps from her daughter. I saw an older man walking slowly, head down, hands clasped behind his back, a slow and measured step, and I wondered what he was thinking about. When I said good morning he raised his head and smiled.
I watched people walking with their dogs, sometimes attempting to match the steps of their pets, or perhaps the pets trying to match the steps of their owners. Watching all these people who look and walk just like their dogs makes me want to laugh.
This is Saturday morning in my world. What is your Saturday morning ritual? What are the things that make your Saturday morning magical? Write a Saturday morning story and remember the Saturday mornings of your life.