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03 October ~ 2007
Dogs and Trees are what I spend a lot of time with, or more precisely two dogs walking in front of me under trees. It is a simple and peaceful life and is what fits me, as I get older. Down deep I don't care much when my romantic life takes a turn for the worse. Then I can drop all expectation and worry and pretense, and return to enjoying each moment as it comes, which is how my dogs live. They are happy and carefree and I could do much worse then paying attention to their example.And I learned a long time ago by hearing the summer leaf breezes, or the wind scream in the branches during winter chinooks, watching the stars and constellations shine through them in January, feeling the texture of the trunk bark on dark solitary nights, that trees can absorb the sorrow and pain and transform it into stability and peace. Trees are masters at accepting what comes their way turning it into growth and strength.
I say this based on 20 years of walks beneath the trees in my grove of Eleven Cottonwoods.
When my dogs were puppies I took them over and held them up and placed them agsomt the bark of the old cottonwood, as if Christening them into their future life of walking beneath these trees with me.
They are attentive and wild when we go through, stopping to check out the scent of coyotes or foxes or raccoons or lions on the side of the trail. We always drop down to the piece of land that jutts into the middle of the frog pond, which used to be a good-sized but for several years now has been becoming more of a cattail marsh.
In summer leopard frogs squeak when they jump into the water. In the winter faint fox tracks trail across through the cattail stalks frozen in the ice.
And now Ben and Maggie are waiting to go on our evening walk. I will put on my heavy pack that I use to keep my back strong, and them and me will go down the hill, across the meadow, and into the Grove again just as the last light on this Indian Summer October day fades into shadow. Its a little lonely, but also deeply joyful, down there when the first stars come out.
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(to see a 700 pixel wide image of the above collage, click here; to see a 1400 wide pixel image of the above picture, click here.)
