Creatures of Habit

This morning had been much like many of the others that had come before it.

When she woke up. Her limbs were sore. Pressed closely to her body hoping to lock in as much warmth as possible. Each passing day, she awoke to find the air cooler than the last. Heavier. Weighing down against her skin, wanting to soak into her bones. It didn't help at all that the weather was also starting to turn. The skies were no longer sunny. Clouds dotted the horizon and left a haze floating about. There was no more blue above her, only grey. And the wind. How it was beginning to whip about through the city. She could certainly do without it. Just the mere thought sent shivers running up her back.

But regardless of the turning seasons, she had to continue on with her business. So when the sun finally broke over the horizon, its first few rays twinkling in the frozen morning dew, she was ready to begin the day - cold as it was. As it was any other day, the first task was raising the children. She walked around, from one to another, nudging them slightly, not wanting to startle them too much. A couple of them needed more coaxing than the others to wake up, but eventually, all had joined the world and were ready to go.

From there they headed out. Down the trail in front of their house and into the woods. She had always taught them that it was important to stretch out their limbs after a long night of sleep. The joints would be sore. Especially now, not wanting to work properly in the brisk morning air. Some of them walked gingerly along the path, the soil frozen solid beneath their feet, not wanting to fall and careen down the rest of the way. From an outside perspective, they were a rather funny looking flock, waddling through the woods, some with their arms stretched out wide, others walking with their legs kicking high in front of them. Like a miniature marching band that hadn't quite found their tempo or rhythm.

Eventually they made it to the end of the path and found themselves at the edge of the lake. The water stretched out before them, still very much like glass. Only the occasional ripple flawed the surface - some fish hidden below nibbling at its breakfast. Not only did she believe a morning walk was valuable, but so was an early morning swim. She always took this part slow, creeping into the water. Letting it crawl up her legs and finally make contact with her chest. No matter how hard she tried, it always stole her breath. Not long after she had completely made it in her kids came storming in - much less gracefully. Water exploded everywhere, in a tangle of flailing limbs - some at least managed to skim across the water, gliding out farther in the lake. Others tumbling beneath the surface, fully submerged. Each day she tried to make it out of the splash zone, but it never worked - she'd always be soaked.

Once everyone was settled, they'd begin their swim away from the shore, deeper out, always managing to stay close to one another. She led the group, driving them forward, legs pumping beneath the water, always aware of what was going on around them. There wasn't a moment that her head wasn't pivoting, making sure every member of her family was accounted for. Even though they did this every morning, she still had to play it safe. There was just too much that could go wrong this far from shore. It was never too long before one of her kids began muttering under their breath about being hungry, to which she'd assure them that'd they'd be getting their breakfast soon.

Being the head of the group, she'd be the first to notice the little beige circles floating in the water. They'd appear rather sporadically to start, drifting along, spaced out from one another, but would soon appear more frequently until through mist that was lingering over the water she could make out the old man along the shore - sitting on the same bench he always was. Hand deep in a bag of bread. Once her kids recognized him, they all swam forward, swarming around below, quaking up at him. Their calls, without fail, always brought a smile to his face. He was so generous, making sure every member of the family got their fair share before moving onto the next - never forgetting to throw the larger pieces out to her as she waited in the back, letting her children eat first.

They'd gorge themselves for some time, until the bag was empty and the man would shuffle away, off to continue his morning routine. And they'd do the same, gliding back along the lake, disappearing into the mist.

Already looking forward to spending the next day's breakfast with him.