The road narrows with each passing day.
Desert like snow rolls in…
but refuses to blow away.
No sandcastle play.
Just a diminishing walkway.
Today, I watch the dogs frolic.
As though, the mossy plot were brand new and clean.
As though, the earth below them were all it seemed.
The elements recall it, a morn to a new day.
With piney cones gathered in moss.
And, fields asunder, haled and dressed.
With hunter’s revoked.
And, the moving wild…all about.
Unlike any other.
It is the first moment.
Of its kind.
And, though, dew has succumb to frost.
And, the day’s journey still renewed.
Still I will not get lost.
The only miscalculated prospect about walking in the woods with a headstrong dog? He would just assume leave you to…chase the wind or scrounge in places he does not belong!
‘It is solved by walking!’
Walking companions, like heroes, are to difficult to pluck out of the crowd of acquaintances. Good dispositions, ready wit, friendly conversation serve well enough by the fireside but they prove insufficient in the field. For there you need transcendentalists- nothing less; you need poets, sages, humorists and natural philosophers..
the Art of Walking
There is nothing in our travels that cannot be bettered by bringing a dog along!