But in its own way, to this old guy, it was just as beautiful.
Each has its own distinctive quality to it. Meant to be witnessed only upon its arrival. Not conjured up in advance in some anxious, determined fashion.
Yesterday had its own vibe. The stunning sunrise full of radiant yellows, oranges and a hint of fuschia.
Today? An array of blues. Perhaps a precursor for some precipitation that became cloudless and bright for most of the day. Just a hint of a cool breeze around the edges.
So if this knucklehead could talk, she would prolly mimic the old man.
And be of very few words.
She was an amazing being.
Stayed by my side, never needed a leash even when amongst other mongrels. Let me qualify that.
While taking a youngin’ on a walk, someone elses much larger dog made the mistake of lunging in an aggressive manner at us. Several stitches and about $400 in vet bills later, that one with the tail now between the legs learned it unwise to mess with the Wonder Dog. She was never gonna let anything harm her loved ones. Ever.
If we were going to take her on a walk, we couldn’t say it or even spell it correctly before we got started. In conversation, it had to be referred to as “taking her on a w-l-a-k.” If she heard the car keys, she was sitting at the passenger door waiting.
There were some simple commands we used, albeit sparse. “Heel” on walks. “No”. “Sit”. “Stay” as the situation demanded. “Smile” sort of just happened when she curled the upper lip and bared her teeth. Wish I could find that picture.
But the one that guided all was simply, “OK”.
Like when we offered a Scooby Snack, she was told “OK” before she could take it.
When she could want to go with us? “OK”.
Ready to get into front seat? “OK”.
Sit on a picnic bench? “OK”.
Go on a w-l-a-k? “OK”
So if Babe could speak in something other than her native tongue – Labraspringielmutt – my guess is he would simply say, “OK”.
Babe, want a treat?
“OK”.
Babe, want to go ifor a ride, roll the windows down and turn the tunes up?
A stunning and beautiful reminder to be present. Make the most of each moment. Move forward.
Scant minutes before, our solar lights brightly dotted the boundary of the patio and the final vestiges of night yet remained.
Ephemeral.
Then this.
A new day.
Today.
Please don’t get ahead of yourself and mentally jump into the 10:00 AM TEAM meeting or the interview you have been counting on for a month. Or fret about dropping the car off and figuring out the logistics of picking up groceries or just paying for it. Sure the kids need to get up and get ready for school or maybe you do too.
And your dog needs that morning walk.
Or you promised yourself one.
Perhaps the weight is not of these concerns but more so of a different source.
A rut.
Remorse. Resentment. Regret. That sense that you need to make things right not just with those around you but with with yourself. And, with another.
That the old has served its purpose and the transformattive nature of the new is there to be embraced. It’s just that it seems so scary and uncertain.
Not of your control.
Please don’t get ahead of yourself and jump into tomorrow.
Back in the day, I did some extensive flying. My arms are still tired.
But I cannot speak to a best and worst from a traveling standpoint. Doesn’t really matter anyways. I am still in one piece. My lost luggage from the early 2000’s just arrived at my door step. I fell asleep once the door closed. And now I get to annoy all of you with my ongoing trope of tripe.
I will say I do have two favorite pilots.
Well, three if you count the attendant in the back ground, making the perfect manhattan.
And the ground crew trying to get them to their gate on time.
That worked!
But then if you are flying commercial, I would go this route, Trans American.
...my temporary assignment. 