Set out with Doggie in the pale gray morning: took the steep way up and smelled woodsmoke at the top of our little hill. Returned home to a tangerine sun cresting over the gables — thought of conflagrations, thought of Canada, thought of the oranges of Hieronymus Bosch.
***
Went on a hike over the weekend with our full squad. Kiddo and the Warthog packed backpacks with snacks, toys — “in case we get hungry or bored” — and off we set into the woods. Lovely, the walk, even as we stopped every few hundred yards for pretzels or cheese puffs or a sip of water. At the halfway point, we broke for a prolonged snack; Kiddo handed out figurines, the Warthog offered sips from his water bottle. The Monkey reveled in being released from my back — him being strapped into the hiking carrier — and waved a toy horse jubilantly. Mrs. CWD, Kiddo, and the Warthog continued on to the farm while I turned back home with Doggie and the Monkey — realizing only too late that we left the horse behind.
The universe…
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