From JuJu with Love

This morning, I stepped outside with Maizey for a quick potty break… and felt something I haven’t felt in months.

Spring.

It was still dark.

The sun hadn’t even begun to rise.

The world was quiet — that deep, early Sunday kind of quiet where everything feels paused.

But it wasn’t silent.

The birds were chirping.

The cranes that live in my neighborhood were calling out.

Even the Canadian geese had something to say.

And for the first time in a long time… the air didn’t hurt.

It wasn’t bone-chilling.

It didn’t make me rush back inside.

It just… felt soft.

Standing there, half awake, in the stillness of a Michigan morning, I realized:

We made it.

We survived another winter.

And there’s something about that first hint of spring — before the leaves, before the warmth, before everything fully wakes up — that feels like a quiet promise.

A reminder that even the longest, coldest seasons… don’t last forever.

Maizey, of course, was completely unfazed.

She did her business, sniffed around like it was any other day, and was ready to head back inside.

But I lingered for just a moment longer.

Listening.

Breathing it in.

Feeling it.

Spring is coming.

And just like that, the moment passes.

Maizey turns and heads straight back to the door — because she knows exactly what comes next.

Breakfast.

We go back inside, she eats, and then we settle in together for a little while longer… waiting for the sun to come up.

In another hour, we’ll head back out for our real walk.

But for now, it’s just us, easing into the day.

From Juju with love. 💙🦆