In-between Tours

Autumnal meditations

I sleep until my eyes open. Our French bulldogs Bentley and Dozer snuggle in tight to my body. I stay in bed and savor this time with them—the day can wait.

I sit outside on the deck at the morning table with coffee. The autumnal sun touches down gently on the treetops and river, fallen leaves decorate the yard. I open my workbook and pick up my pen—I concentrate on the page and write.

I walk the dogs via rucksack. I carry 45lbs on my back and a reusable mesh trash bag in my hand. The dogs drag me around the neighborhood, leaves crunching under our feet. I pick up any trash and litter as we go. Dozer lurches at all the busy squirrels, Bentley’s hair rises as we approach every known canine residence. A neighbor asks, Who’s walking who? I just smile.

I run along the river. I see wild turkey moving through the quiet woods. This is my daydream time. The first line of a poem comes to me. I take my memo book out of my belt bag and jot it down. The eyrie of our resident bald eagles is visible again through the thinning trees. Northern cardinals and blue jays flitter across the paved path. Legs and lungs and poetry.