Wednesday, January 9, 2008


Some walks are not spectacular in and of themselves. It's how open to the walk and the world I am that makes them memorable. You'll never find me talking on the phone or listening to a Dan Savage podcast on my iPod. As wonderful as those things can be, they are also isolating and when my greatest walks with Duncan have been the ones in which the world has snapped its fingers at me and called my attention to something I may not have noticed otherwise.

I made it home tonight in time to witness the last of the light leaving the sky. As we trudged through the snow a single stripe of blue light, caught between the black silhouette of the mountains and a band of thick clouds, cut the sky into pieces. I watched it slip away, turning gray, then pale blue and a final fade into a gentle and surprising green before the clouds and mountains swallowed it up. It was shocking and sudden and I marvel that my dog led me to it in his own meandering, iPod and phone-less way.

1 comment:

Ruth said...

If its shocking and sudden you want, I say screw the walks and plug yourself back into a Savage Lovecast.

(You look like a perfect fit / for a girl in need of a tourniquet...)