Sissy and DeWayne

Two oldish girls walked down the street today with storm clouds threatening from the north/northeast. The warm moist air hit us in the face as we turned into the park. A "cold front" was on its way. It had been hard to start the walk today (creaky joints) and I was tempted to cut it short, but somehow something-a feeling that something special was ahead - called us onward.

The robot dog truck passed us and turned around to set up just inside the park. The people waved as did two yellow labby tails in the back window of the pickup. We turned around and found ourselves engaged in conversation. We discovered the dogs are, in fact, hunters in training. The trainers are Sissy and DeWayne (pronounced DEE Wayne).

It changes things, to know people's real names. The sense of community strengthens.

Banana man (David) had arrived and greetings were exchanged again. Sissy pronounced Paddy "A lucky dog" as a stray who found a family. I think we are the lucky ones.

We had no time to mull over our now altered friendships as our enemy watched us from the gate as we headed up the hill toward home. This is not the first time. Another dog often barks from a neighboring yard, but the dark one (of the attack) merely stands and watches. Sometimes it paces as if looking for a way to get out of the yard and to us.

So we thought about the enemy - until we were almost home.

Then we passed Mohawk dog and gang...and they serenaded us, two base barks, one tenor...a howling trio...Mohawk dog, the dane, and the boxer...perhaps we need to learn their names as well.

Sunflowers

Our quick walk was a collection of moments I can only jot down this morning: a Maxfield Parrish sky, birds singing like they did the first time the FUM and I walked around the block - knowing this was where we would live, the owner of the tiny voice waiting for the bus - "school is almost over" "good-bye", a tortoise-shell cat staring at me like Ratso would, a bride's boquet on the seat of the SUV where Paddy stopped to sniff, and sunflowers lining the chain-link of a sad little house (caliche yard, varieties of Christmas lights hanging, abandoned electrical roof decoration)...those flowers smilingly face us (or east to the sun) as we hurry home...

Solar lights and soldiers

On the evening walk to North Belton we met a young couple. He is 1st Cav. and due to go to Afghanistan later in the year. They were doing what we were doing - honoring the fallen.

We roused only a couple of lazy neighborhood dogs tonight. We noted the solar lights as they came on - in among the markers and along pathways in nearby yards.

The dark settled in. The crickets and cicadas sang us home.

Saturday Routine

Reminder: Rethink Saturday routine. Heck, ESTABLISH Saturday routine.

Beautiful dark clouds threatened a bit at the market so I headed home to walk before any storming. Fooled me. Paddy and I enjoyed the shade until we started to turn around. The sun came out and the temperature went up 5 or 10 degrees - catching us out of water and too far from home. We dragged back.

But, before pooping out, we visited briefly with running man (always polite, he coughed when he came up behind us so we would not startle) who claimed chores also kept him from his usual earlier run. We also talked with a couple of neighbors planting a hot pink crepe myrtle in their front yard.

And we did walk the edge of the woods to "see what we could see" as we expected the dark things to be hiding from the bright morning light (and, smarter than us, from the heat). We somehow ended up in the creekbed and walked far enough in to see the stagnant pool - all that is left of the recent rains. There are tracks all around this watering hole, but we declined.

Grasses and wildflowers continue to dry up. A few evening primroses clung to the banks of the creek, some wild morning glory - tiny and white with a blood red eye - lay just below the cut vegetation at the borders of the road. And thistles are blooming in the yard of the once abandoned house. It still looks a bit abandoned, but there are signs of occupancy...the yard is just very rough. I suppose it is time to get to mine before the thistles start to bloom here too.

Summer in the park

Returned home from one of my favorite work duties (name reader for GED graduation - 15th year or thereabouts) to a family planning session for Christmas (Let's go to MC's for the holiday!). Peeled off the dress clothes and changed into the "dog walking wear" as we called numbers on the cell phone left in my office today. We finally found someone to answer (no, we did not leave messages on Mom's or Dad's lines - that scares people when someone from "the college" calls). Turns out it belongs to a co-worker and he will NEVER hear the end of it I am sure. Met his wife at the bottom of the hill.

Then, exhausted from our "good deed," we wandered to the ice cream/snow cone stand. Everyone was treated. Paddy loves vanilla soft-serve. She chased that bowl across the pavement 'til there was none. I find French vanilla most like the snow cones of my youth. DH tried the sugar free cherry.
I forget that ice cream is a sticky mess whether you have little people or big dogs...but it was worth it...I just hope Padimus doesn't decide to drag me to the stand on future walks now that she knows what happens there.

We walked on the pavement as the darkness caught up with us in the park. We do not walk the dirt road at night. We have seen unidentified animals (shadows) walking there at dawn and dusk - best not to meet up with strange and unknown creatures in the dark.

Only one ball field was still in use as we drew alongside (and watched the kids snag the foul balls and home runs - baseballs over the fence. Do you get a free snow cone when you return the ball?).
When there is only one game you can really hear it. You aren't swamped with the noise of too many aluminum bats making contact, too much patter, too many cheering fans. The game sounds and the heat and the taste of the snow cone conspired - I am transported to Rob and Bessie Welder Park - I am 12 years old with a peeling sunburn hoping to get a turn announcing the game with Toots.

I am startled back to the present as the park cat runs for safety in the culvert and Paddy tries to follow.
The night creatures are everywhere: a fox crosses the entrance to the park as we head for home; the neighborhood cats start their evening prowls; the crickets drone in in the background as the cicadas call and answer.

Mohawk dog - leader of the chorus

Dawn was breaking as we entered the park. The misty fog gathered in the low lying areas and across the soccer fields towards the back of the park. It brought to mind one of the traditional songs I first heard sung by Steeleye Span and I sang it in my head (One misty moisty morning when cloudy was the weather I met with an old man clothed all in leather...)

We three walked the dirt road and noted the dew-brushed spider webs and grasses. The first meadow was still full of wildflowers freshened by our recent rains. All along the road were signs that we were just minutes behind the deer. Hooves had broken through the dry surface of the road and into the mud just below...tracks still damp.

As we approached the second meadow one doe was framed by the woods on either side of us. I pointed at her twice to make sure those in our party were aware and quiet. As we were clearing the woods we heard that loud warning snort on our right. Alerted, those in the meadow started bounding away through the high grass. I counted six then two more came out of the woods and joined the herd. Seeing them like this never grows old for me.

We turned towards home and one last deer crossed the road about 100 feet ahead of us. I don't know if this was a straggler or if she circled around us. But Paddy could barely be contained.

The rest of the way we stopped frequently to take photos. I will post tonight if any are clear. It is hard not to wiggle the camera when holding a "deer-excited" Padimus.

Our final smile came just blocks from the house when we discovered Mohawk dog and his owner out in their front yard. We exchanged a few words. I told him how much we enjoyed his dogs - that we called them "Mohawk dog and his gang." He related how that was right. Mohawk dog is the oldest and the leader.

[We did try out the new "bling" and are quite taken with the hat light.]

Short walk - Paddy and the dawdler...

Paddy and I walked on our own today - just as the sky was brightening. I think the birdsongs are most varied at this time of morning.

Paddy loves it when it is "just us" as I dawdle and our other companions keep a faster pace. There is more sniffing and tracking of interesting smells with the dawdler. We were early and had the time.

Friends were all about in the park so we walked to the first meadow, but saw no deer. The grass and wildflowers are so high that we could see where the deer had passed through the meadow earlier - greenery pressed down near some tracks and, according to Padimus, strong scent of bambilus.

The only game according to my girl? Felis catus. One older neighbor feeds the neighborhood and we spied 4 lounging around, waiting for breakfast. At Mohawk dog's house (yes, the boys greeted us on our way home) there are easily 3 house cats...they watch us walking by from window perches. I am made guilty - Hobbes has no similar perch. He tries to make his own, but often loses his grip (back of the armchair) or his balance (sliding across the kitchen table on the tablecloth - table surfing?).
More tonight...