Riley has been loving life lately. I picked up an audio book the last time I was at the library, so our walks together have been much longer lately as I became more absorbed in my book. He doesn’t mind a bit.
Walking along tree-lined, back country roads in the fall is beautiful enough. When you add a brisk wind that breaks away golden leaves, well, that’s just flat-out beautiful. I know I have said this before, but since I was little I have always thought of going through a storms of falling leaves as being my own personal ticker tape parade. Today I went through so many it was like I was the Grand Marshal.
After my book was done, I started thinking about a poem I wrote several years ago while walking on a similar fall day. I searched through an old notebook and found it just like I remembered. It isn’t Frost, but it isn’t too bad either:
Leaves (by me, the City Girl)
The journey began thanks to
Breaking free of the shell of a bud,
stretching out, reaching out
until the gaps seem filled and the shade complete
Holding firm through summer storms and brisk winds,
dancing in unison but each one unique
The grand finale comes with a burst of colors
Then slowly the day comes to break free
into the gentle float
twisting like confetti
until finding a home on the carpet of Mother Earth.
I read it to Riley and he seemed to like it. Since he had so much fun with the small poem he wrote a few weeks back, I thought I’d let him try his hand at writing about our walk. Here’s his best shot:
The Walk (by Riley the Dog)
I know the look
hand reaching for leash
My tail wags with delight and anticipation
Old path, doesn’t matter
Places I have been to and marked are different because there are
Stop to savor each fragrant mark
Reach to follow trails that wander across my path
I explore until my nose fills to overflowing
Then we return home
to the place with the smells I know so well
My tail wags
out of delight for the walk
And because my tail
Not bad, Riley. Not bad at all. I can picture you out on our walk – you are very good at describing how it goes when we are on the road together. The things we see, the things you do were all there. Well…almost all of what you “do” was in that poem, but the part you left out was best not said.