Meet Dune in Full Color
A time of waiting and wandering
January and the Art of Waiting
I think January arrives without asking for attention.
It’s a month that stretches quietly. It lingers. It lets the world breathe after the rush of so many festivities. The lights are dimmer now. The air is brick. Time feels looser in our hands. We are no longer running around, but we are not settled either. January is a month of movement without urgency. It feels like waiting without worry.
That makes me think about Dune.
Meet Dune, the Yellow Dog
Dune is the yellow dog in Nora Escapes the Bakery, and he carries that same sense of waiting and wandering. He is playful. He is patient. He is perpetually curious. He moves through the world with his tongue out, his tail wagging, and his eyes wide enough to catch everything at once.
A World Full of Invitations
Dune loves attention, not because he needs it, but because he delights in connection. Just about anything will make his ears perk up. A laugh. A call. A cookie waved in the air. Every sound feels like an invitation. Every moment feels new.
He is always looking around, never quite looking ahead. One step forward, two steps sideways. A pause. A pivot. A sudden sprint toward something only he noticed. Time moves differently for him. It stretches when he’s sniffing. It disappears when he’s running. By the time he circles back, the day has already changed.
Like January.
Running Toward Delight
You’ll find Dune charging through playgrounds with sand on his paws and joy in his chest. You’ll find him bounding across beaches where the wind tangles his fur and the seagulls scatter just in time. He doesn’t realize he might be bigger than the birds he greets or the crabs he tries to befriend. He only knows they are there. That feels like reason enough.
Dune runs toward delight. He doesn’t spend much time thinking about destinations.
And cookies. Oh, those are his weakness. The smell alone is enough to stop him mid-step. He will sit, stare, and scheme. If a cookie is within reach, Dune believes it was meant for him. And honestly, who could argue with that kind of faith?
January asks us move like that too.
This is the month where we learn how to wait without freezing. Where wandering becomes its own wisdom. Where patience doesn’t always mean stillness, and movement doesn’t require certainty. Like Dune, we follow what feels warm. What feels curious. What feels alive.
Soft Starts and Open Spaces
In the story, Dune doesn’t know where he’s going next. He just knows he wants to keep going. When I think about Dune, I think about how I’ve been learning to live with more spontaneity. I’m a planner. I’ve been clearing paths my whole life. But I’m learning that joy sometimes arrives through distraction. Through detours. Through moments I didn’t plan for. In 2025, my family signed up for the Baltimore Pride parade without realizing we needed choreography. Also, we were drawn to the beautiful tradition of Día de los Muertos, and chose at the last minute to embrace the celebration as a heartfelt way to honor our loved ones.
If I’m always constrained a plan, I’m not sure I would have the courage to turn around and notice anything new!
Dune reminds me that beginnings don’t have to be loud to be meaningful. That waiting can be playful. That time passing isn’t time wasted.
January is a season of soft starts and open spaces.
Until spring arrives, Dune will keep running. Through parks. Through beaches. Through moments that feel small but matter deeply. He will keep waiting in his own way.
He’s waiting to meet you.
With patience. With presence. With paws ready to move the moment something wonderful appears.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
Wandering Together
