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Posts Tagged ‘dog photography’

This past week has been one that I knew would need more than my standard relaxation rituals to lay to rest. A morning of books and hot tea on the front porch just wasn’t going to cut it, this time. And my trusty side-kick had spent far too many days in a row left cooped up in the house. We needed to get away, if only for a morning.

Being reluctant travelers, I decided on one of my spots close to home where two socially unacceptable females can wander untethered and leave their nervous energy lying somewhere in the mud; a place of my own that I haven’t shared with another human soul. It is a trail of the sort that leaves you covered in delicate webs, and you don’t mind because this means no one bigger than a spider has occupied this space in quite some time. It is a trail that ends at a small body of water, that leads to a bigger body of water, along whose banks I have discovered many tracks, but only once another shoe print besides my own. It is a trail unexpectedly beautiful, at times passing close enough to civilization that we can see the gleam of commuters on their way to another Monday morning. Do any of them have an idea that beyond that blur of trees there are entire fields of sassafras? Do they wonder if a kingfisher, bold and beautiful, will swoop unexpectedly from the trees, passing breathlessly close to the surface of the water, and cause their heads to turn because they can’t possibly look away? Do they suspect that here lies a path, a human-made path (which human, I will likely never know), and yet the beech trees that grow on top of those hidden ridges are not riddled with the initials of passers-by? That whimsical things can still be found here?

Selfishly, I hope these thoughts never enter their crowded minds, because I want this space for myself. And on days like today, I need it.

Bryn and I spent the morning meandering through the woods, stopping to meditate our senses on anything. We crunched through thickets. We got just a little bit lost. We examined shells and pebbles and everything that caught the light just so. We found things we weren’t expecting. We ran back and forth on our own personal beach. We got the shock of our lives when Bryn suddenly discovered that she could swim. We tramped home hours later, cold and dirty and sandy and smelling like a river.

We both had huge smiles on our faces.

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