A Walk in The Countryside...musings on life, love and the nature of the universe

*note...these are a series of essays that I have already published but I wanted to introduce them to a different audience. I'll dribble them out now and then so if you enjoy the whimsy of talking dogs and philosophical musings you may find this your cup of tea. Earl Grey perhaps.*

The Adventures of Jackson and Motley, Episode 1

A drizzly, inclement afternoon it is and my dog and I made our way out to the fields for his walk. He didn't really need one as we live out in the country and he basically roams free but to journey far from the house requires a human presence and when that time comes this big dog looks forward to it. He's a good sized pupper, being the retriever/Newfoundland mix that he is. The best way to envision him is to imagine the biggest Golden Retriever you can and then dye him jet black. That's him. Did I mention the ritual? To get him excited about going out it has become the norm to hum the theme song from a certain TV show so he can get all worked up. This is his cue that he's going for his walk. I know, it's weird. But dogs like to be sung to you know, and he bays right back with the knowledge that his walk is imminent.

A change of shoes is needed and the driving cap too, with those we are off. Out into the drizzle we go with him bounding out ahead of me. I catch him looking back occasionally to check my whereabouts. He never goes too far, it's as if he remembers what it's like to be abandoned. All that time he spent in the pound when no one cared for him must have had some kind of effect on his psyche and it's almost as if he wants to be sure that he'll never be alone again. The fields are quiet and you can almost hear the heavy weather gathering in the distance. Soon a storm will be upon us. The weather is almost English in its nature, drizzle, the sounds of crows in the distance and the rather comforting sound that large animals make when they run. Horses do it too, that rythmic sound they make when cantoring or loping. Ta-ta-tump----ta-ta-tump, That's the sound. I couldn't help but think for a moment that this was one of those pure and unique moments in life, when all is well and for a short while seems like heaven. Moments like those don't come very often so I try to savor them when they do. I remember the last time I felt this way...

We made our way to the fence where some horses were kept. They came around to look us over and have their ears scratched. Horses make me nervous a little and I never know when they're going to nibble my jacket or conk me in the head. They enjoyed the attention though and didn't seem to mind being soaking wet as long as they could satisfy their curiosity about these two strange creatures invading their world.

Down by the turn in the road there was an orchard where someone kept beehives. Normally we'd be wary about getting too close but it was very apparent that the bees were also hunkering down and taking shelter from our impending deluge. I stood right next to one of them half expecting a swarm to emerge and smite me for my daring but nothing came of it. Just an almost imperceptable buzzing inside the hive gave any indication of a living presence. We felt lucky to have ventured this close without incident so we backed off and quietly trudged back to the dirt road. I stopped and looked back and thought briefly of my younger self, perhaps ten years old, who would have loved to throw a rock at the hive from a safe distance just to rile those bees. And I realized then how far I'd come as a person for such things no longer interested me and I wondered where that ten year old kid had gone and if any of him still remained.

Time to head back. We returned the way we came, almost retracing our steps. The drizzle was getting more intense now. The dog didn't care, he was having a blast, just give him something to sniff and somewhere to explore and he's happy. I chuckled as that just didn't seem like much to ask for.

There are times when I wonder what he's thinking and if somehow, some way, there was a way to really have a meeting of the minds. I wonder if he has the same thoughts and what he thinks of me and his home here in the country? If only, if only.

We made our way back by the old apple orchard, dark and leafless trees lined up in neat rows waiting for spring to do what they do. Ta-ta-tump. There he goes right by me. The house loomed in the drizzly distance, warm and comfortable in contrast to this bracing and rather English weather we were braving. I hated to see this little journey end. It was memorable. It was heaven.

Once inside again I could hear the sound of rain beginning to tap on the roof and it grew to a deafening pitch. We had just made it.

Comments

anne said…
Ooh rainy walks in the country. Love those.
{illyria} said…
you make the romance of rain all too palpable.
The Fool said…
I like the rain. Earlier this year during springtime I was running to my car outside the house and a girl walking by yelled "Don't you hate the rain?" I yelled back "NO! All life on earth would cease without it!" But personally I love it when it rains. The world seems to slow down a bit and seems a bit more pastoral. I still don't get why people grumble when it rains.

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