Before the sun's rays dry the heavy dew...
Before the butterflies and dragonflies begin to dart from blossom to blossom...
Before the neighbors in their loud, souped up trucks take to the road for another day of work...
Before the rooster one farm over heralds his morning pronouncements,
Mac and I set out on our morning walk.
Accompanied by silence and an occasional screech from Dad Red-Tail above...
by a gentle, autumm-like breeze...
by Mama Brahma and calf who follows us down the fence line,
by golden rod and ironweed already taller than I,
we proceed toward the back woods.
Along the way, Mac ventures once or twice into the brambles alongside the path.
I try not to call him back out loud but rather "think" him to me, like I used to do with Annie and Molly.
I find he's responding to my non-verbal requests more and more.
(I rely on our silent dialogue to keep him close to me wherever we are.)
I love to walk behind him and watch his little corgi butt clipping down the path.
It, as much as his perpetual corgi smile, reflects his love of life....and his joy, his innocence.
Once in the woods, we explore in separate directions,
Mac always in search of the perfect stick or with his rear end in the air and nuzzle stuck under a decaying log...
And I traipsing around with camera in hand, looking for unusual...intrituing images to capture.
After an hour or so of "pilfering" down by the creek,
we head home, and by this time the sun's out....
Mrs. BlueJay's squawking for us to move on...
the mosquitoes have come to life,
and I have a plan for the day.
Before the butterflies and dragonflies begin to dart from blossom to blossom...
Before the neighbors in their loud, souped up trucks take to the road for another day of work...
Before the rooster one farm over heralds his morning pronouncements,
Mac and I set out on our morning walk.
Accompanied by silence and an occasional screech from Dad Red-Tail above...
by a gentle, autumm-like breeze...
by Mama Brahma and calf who follows us down the fence line,
by golden rod and ironweed already taller than I,
we proceed toward the back woods.
Along the way, Mac ventures once or twice into the brambles alongside the path.
I try not to call him back out loud but rather "think" him to me, like I used to do with Annie and Molly.
I find he's responding to my non-verbal requests more and more.
(I rely on our silent dialogue to keep him close to me wherever we are.)
I love to walk behind him and watch his little corgi butt clipping down the path.
It, as much as his perpetual corgi smile, reflects his love of life....and his joy, his innocence.
Once in the woods, we explore in separate directions,
Mac always in search of the perfect stick or with his rear end in the air and nuzzle stuck under a decaying log...
And I traipsing around with camera in hand, looking for unusual...intrituing images to capture.
After an hour or so of "pilfering" down by the creek,
we head home, and by this time the sun's out....
Mrs. BlueJay's squawking for us to move on...
the mosquitoes have come to life,
and I have a plan for the day.
1 comment:
What a delightful journey Tanya, I could take that walk with you and Mac every morning...and so I will.
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