This morning in the spattering mid-winters
rain, off we went, down The Adele Dawson Conservation Path, which was deserted
of humans, in the mild dark day.
The river's waters surged, free of ice, with
small remnants of snow clinging to the riversides here and there. We saw not a
crow nor hawk nor eagle , all so quiet under the thick fog and radiant subdued
winter colors.
The mud path was still frozen from past cold nights, and rutted, so we took care, and the pup listened attentively when I warned him to be careful .
As the morning wind shimmied through his thick curls and mine, sweeping up leaves long gone , whipping up waves upon the water.
While ,smiling peacefully, we thought of nothing else at all.
The mud path was still frozen from past cold nights, and rutted, so we took care, and the pup listened attentively when I warned him to be careful .
As the morning wind shimmied through his thick curls and mine, sweeping up leaves long gone , whipping up waves upon the water.
While ,smiling peacefully, we thought of nothing else at all.
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