What's Your Anchor?

It's been one of those days. Three hours spent on the phone to fix the internet, only to find out there's a "power outage" with our server so I just have to wait. No internet means little work done. Painters are working on the outside of the house (for 9 hours), creating a seriously nervous Kona dog...

But the day started well!

It was another overcast morning, the marine layer so low that mist clouded the hills.
While I stopped to breathe in the fog, Kona practiced a sit. She broke it after a few seconds, but sat again when I asked her to and didn't whine.
I couldn't blame her for not wanting to stay still. There was a more important task at hand. Yes, it's wabbit hunting season. (If you enlarge the picture, you can just make out Kona's target in the distance).
I jogged at a steady pace, amazed that July has brought so many cool mornings. Kona moved at her own pace, running ahead, then freezing, then charging.
As we crossed the road that divides our trail, the sun seemed to rise out of the ground. I paused for awhile and took out my water bottle to offer Kona something to drink. To my shock and delight, she drank! Kona usually turns her head away from my water bottle, too hypervigilant to notice her thirst. I soaked up our victory moment.
As we climbed the steep section of trail, the sun barely seeped through the clouds. The sky looked surreal, like a movie backdrop.

I finished our run feeling refreshed. As the day unfolded in a series of inconveniences and frustrations, I became ever more grateful for my peaceful morning. I'm reminded how trail time with Kona helps me ride through the rest of the day, even the hair-pulling ones.