My Own Personal Monotony

I knew I had to leash him before we reached the Beaver Pond yesterday, as all the grass burrs have been making a mess out of his paws. The descent to the Beaver Pond is a not-too-steep hill, prime lady slipper country, and torturous to careen down with 165 pounds of sniffing on the end of a leash. We checked out the grass situation and it’s still a mess – so no wading for the big boy today.

I take advantage of Hamish’s total bewilderment that he’s not going in the water (What did we come this far for, if not to frolic in the muck?), and his protestation of it – a nice hefty “sit” in the middle of the path, to peer around the tree bases for any new growth.

And there it was – a new lady slipper.
And then, some four feet away a flowering lady slipper. And again, a few feet away from her – just leaves coming up through the pine needles.

So I think on three things:  lady slipper alley will be glorious, I learned when to start looking for the plants pushing up through the forest mulch (MID-MAY, MID-MAY…), and I simply can not explain why this discovery has provided me with so much joy.

I found myself thanking God for the beauty that surrounds us, and thankful that we had taken time for “the long walk” on a busy day when neither of us seemed up for it.

I also learned that when taking close up pictures, laying on the ground in the forest, with a heavily-panting leashed dog -  the camera shakes with the breathing. Bonus: the ground smelled so strongly – a nice woodsy, floral, sweet musk that can’t be replicated in a perfume.

We walked home – tired, hot, but satisfied with our findings – he with his smells and tracking, and I with my lady slippers.

And then I found two ticks on me, and spent the rest of the day feeling phantom tick crawlies.