Steps away from my humble treehouse abode, there's a stretch of road---with a sweet hill---that's temporarily closed.
DJB and Eric had no choice but to bomb it on their longboards. Rad.
A man walked by with his old dog in a wagon. So sweet, I nearly cried. Totally would have done that with my dearly departed Django once he could no longer take walks, had he not been so skittish.
This, my friends, is what we call a lovely morning.