As an artist -
I can't help but be amazed and marvel at a sight like this.
This occured on a night when I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.
I had come home from work and had a very long list of things that I needed to do.
I wanted to go and work in my studio.
But my dog needed a walk.
He REALLY needed a walk.
And there was no one else to take him.
"Why do I have to do everything when I get home?"
These were things that my husband used to do - and I have been left with.
Grumble grumble grumble.
I huffed and puffed to myself and grudginly loaded the dog in the back of the car.
I grabbed the leash and his ball and the poop bags.
Grabbed my keys and my wallet and my phone -
Good grief - am I going to walk the dog or moving out for a week?
How much stuff does a person need to walk the dog.
I get down to the dog park.
I haven't decided how I feel about the dog park.
I love my dog - I love to walk him.
But I have a life.
There are these dog owners that come down there every evening and the bring a suitcase filled with toys and water and dog treats. They have collected a bunch of chairs that they stack in the corner of the fenced area and pull out so they can sit and socialize for hours while the dogs do their thing.
I don't know these people because I rarely stay long enough.
I don't know their dogs names and they all know Redford's name.
They talk for a couple hours every night.
I don't have that much time to spend at the dog park.
When I see them and stand in their midst - I feel like a bad dog parent.
It's like when I used to stand at the playground or the community center and compare myself to the other parents of toddlers.
My theory is -
get in, run him hard and move on.
That is what I was doing.
Rushing the dog. Rushing myself.
Feeling anxious at everything I still had to do.
And I stopped and turned my head.
The sun was poking through the trees and I was greeted with a sight that demanded to be acknowledged.
And once again I was reminded -
Slow down and breath or you might miss the magic.