Down by the farmers
fields, the weather was deliciously late-afternoon T-shirt-cool, the dappled
clouds racing about overhead.
The Goshawk came by to circle us, reminding me of their territory, of their soon-to-be-hatched chick.
The neighborhood horses were safely abed, the golden retriever and person done, fishing people left,motorcycle people all roared off. The whole place deserted and quiet, as the tall grasses swept about in the wind.
So we walked along, and Danto perused the underbrush. We threw the balls, and for once, did not bring home a sopping dripping dog.
The Goshawk came by to circle us, reminding me of their territory, of their soon-to-be-hatched chick.
The neighborhood horses were safely abed, the golden retriever and person done, fishing people left,motorcycle people all roared off. The whole place deserted and quiet, as the tall grasses swept about in the wind.
So we walked along, and Danto perused the underbrush. We threw the balls, and for once, did not bring home a sopping dripping dog.
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