Last night Keely did not get her usual 30 minute before-bedtime walk because a severe storm was in progress. Like most storms it took its own sweet time sneaking up on us — the region had been bracing for it since early morning — but did not hit full force in my area until after 4 pm. Fortunately we were let out of work early so I did at least get her out to pee before we socked ourselves in for the night.
The after effects of such storms are predictable and this was no exception: lots of trees and branches blown over around town, grounds cover scoured clean of debris. This one also brought another cold snap, so this morning it was a bitter and windy 44F degrees biting at our heels as we trooped around Lake Ella.
I was clearly mostly asleep at the time because I know better than to head that direction in such inclement weather, since the park is a good 20 feet lower than where I live and the pond is a large flat surface for wind to roar across. But no, instinct and habit took over and so we went down to fight the gusts of cold.
There was less damage than I expected, given the strong winds last night, with very few branches down. But then after the past few years of strong hurricane weather I think most weak limbs and underbrush have been cleaned out. Few leaves were left, and to Keely’s dismay most of the grounded spanish moss was also blown away, taking their fascinating collection of dog pee scenting with them.
She’s always more chipper in the cold, befitting her craggy, heavy, coarse fur. (I despair of it, because no matter how often or thoroughly I groom her, it turns back into a mat of gnarled tangles the instant she shakes herself out.) Even so, she led me to the shortcut home and is now curled up on my bed, watching me with one wary and sleepy eye.