The morning dawned gray and cooler; a break from the humid week of summer’s last blast. Ducks winged in, circling the pond, landing to fish and socialize. Our last day before this becomes a memory.
Alice snuffles, snorts and farts her way down the road on our morning walk. She inspects something, dips her derrière to mark it, then stands and kicks dirt over the spot. I don’t pretend understand the ritual but it must be important. Our neighbors are never out when we walk. There also are no other dogs though Alice seems to find evidence of their presence.
The day is going to remain overcast and cool. We load up and head to Keene to visit Hanni at her store and pick up dog food. A furry hedgehog toy also finds its way into the car. Racing home against the rain, I picture the perfect toasted BLT sandwich with my leftover heirloom tomato and smoked mozzarella.
I could leave, head back to my house and pick up the threads of daily life. Packing up the outside stuff takes no time and I am done before the first drops of rain ripple the surface of the pond. This time the kayak goes easily up atop the car. I feel accomplished and strong as I position and tighten the straps. But I don’t leave. I sit in the window and watch a duck slide by, admonishing myself for almost giving up the last of this time set aside for me. The view will never again be what I see right now. Best to stay and savor it a while longer. Sharpen your focus…
We retire early to the now familiar bed as the last light leaves the sky. An owl calls across the pond as I settle around Alice and look out at the bright stars.
And now, all can go back to as it was before Alice and I arrived. This place absorbed our presence, giving back rest and renewal. Narrow your focus…