There was a moment this afternoon between heavy, gray doldrums, when one field of rippling clouds had moved to the east and the other was only just beginning to creep over the mountains, smudging the strict dark line between rock and sky with pale fluffy fingers, when the sun came out, bursting into a sky so suddenly blue it caught my breath and tickled the hair on my arms and legs. We had swung past the eastern edge of the lake, climbed the hill behind the amphitheater and had raised a ruckus among the local prairie dog population when the sun slid out, igniting the world in golden light. Duncan pulled me into the grass where the leash was wrenched from my hand as he began rolling madly in the green, the leash coiling around him, under him, entwining among his legs, all splayed in the air at all angles, rising and falling at various times like women in some frenetic synchronized swimming competition, if the women were incredibly thin and worse fuzzy red coats and were hopped up on sunshine and pumpkin treats, that is. I watched a portion of his exuberance up close, through the lens of my camera and caught only a portion of the dance as an occasional splash of red against at lush green background, followed by a grin almost maniacal in its joy.
No one knows how to savor a moment like a dog.
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