Out by 4:30 am, for reasons I am forever bitter about, but it was another calm, dark morning. A Florida morning, despite the chill of 55F degrees: a scum of fog filled the air, dank and humid as it was, spreading the lamp light around like a smear of paint. I can’t paint or I would capture that image, it is truly evocative despite being unpleasant to bear.
Keely of course pays no mind, like a dog. Her favorite thing is fallen spanish moss which apparently all dogs love to pee on. I suppose it feels substantial. It is not as if we have piles of yellow snow, or bunches of rotten leaves. A few more leaves scatter the ground than during the rest of the year, but windy rain storms drive off the worst of them.
It’s a familiar trek for us now, three years ongoing, to trek around Lake Ella. I wonder if Keely gets bored, but when I give her lead she stays in the familiar zones, varying only by small degrees. Today was the full long route, which cuts through the parking lot and the cottages and what I call the “village green” where the food trucks park on Thursdays.
Keely was keen to stop at all the bushes and that pleases me, to see her perky and interested. I’m still anxious from the crisis of last year — I’m too familiar with losing the ones I love, human and animal, to ever be too comfortable in my affections.
…an interesting statement to reflect on. I’m sure it implicates far too much about me!