Hay Creek

I swear, those cows are staring at me again.

K and I decided we would tromp through the woods somewhere local, since it is Saturday and it is beautiful, and with his being gone for several days, the dogs have not been thrown about quite as much as they are used to. Plus, I have had musical rehearsals for weeks on end, so it is good to be home, be present, without just using this as a hotel stop between shifts at the education factory.

We aimed for one place, but he entrusted the directions to me, which was a very silly thing for him to do indeed (as he said, I have the memory of a gnat, and this was after laughing at me, very sweetly of course, at having no idea where to turn and how to get to the park we were aiming for). Instead, we decided to see where the road would take us, which wasn't so bad, except Penelope decided she indeed was still a lapdog, even if she is all of a year old, and her nails haven't been trimmed recently. I lowered the window and she flung her head out, wispy kinky hair whipping in the breeze. She was so tickled, and Zephyr was in the back, dancing around on the slick backseat, sliding around like a little muppet.

(Now, before you look at these pictures [of which there are so very, very many], I want to tell you that Zephyr is not the neglected younger sibling but the dog who would not romp in the water quite so cleverly, especially after K tossed him in like a sack of groceries several times. We adore Zephyr in this household and even if he is hard to photograph because he is so dark-furred, we treasure those pictures just the same.)

We followed some road, I cannot remember which, and it eventually turned into gravel. K said, "Shall we keep going?" and I nodded absently, erasing the less desirable pictures from Kelly's wedding off my memory card, knowing I've already burned the CDs and they still sit on one of our many hard drives. He stopped abruptly, and I thought--Cows! He's going to let me take some pictures of cows again! But across from these lowing cows was a little grass parking spot and beyond that, a path, and beyond that still, a stream. This is where we spent our afternoon: tromping through sand, watching Penelope attack the water, pointing out the strange shapes nature makes.

Zephyr dove in at first, but afterwards, he pulled back on the leash, digging in to the sand. Penelope, on the other hand, easily was let off her leash, and we were amused and grateful as she flopped around, bounding like a gazelle, shocking in her grace, and able to come back when called. I was nervous when K let the leash go slack, but soon discovered she was obedient, despite her distractions. I suppose that's all part of learning to let go.

We saw many leashless dogs on the trail: one running alongside his jogging companion, another smallish white terrier, and three hunting dogs that came bounding out of a truck, disinterested in our own dogs and anxious to get into the water themselves. K and I told each other that if we fell into money and we outgrew our own house (which we will, post-children), we would want to live out here. Woods sprouted up all along with secluded houses vanishing at the roadside. It was quiet, peaceful, and expansive. We love it where we live now, and I have no intentions of leaving soon, but we both have similar dreams--having land, having enormous trees, having paths stretch on without end.

And this wasn't the purpose, but a side effect: this is preparation for our camping trip this summer. Have I posted my mondo beyondo? On it lists camping each summer... and strangely, I somehow took action and booked two campsites to go with our good friends Angie, Lane, and Chad in early June. It's actually the weekend after the last day of school, so it is a kind of celebration of surviving This High School and the beginning of a very busy summer with many changes. We are bringing our dogs on this camping trip, so there will be five adults (four on Friday and five on Saturday as Chad will be out of town that first evening) and three dogs. What an adventure! I haven't been camping since I went with my mother, sister, and uncle in Yosemite when I was a very moody junior in high school and that was about a decade ago.

Speaking of my sister, I have my first "assignment" for our project: local color. I took some pictures tonight, after dinner at Oar d'Oeuvre, but I plan to go out again tomorrow. I also have a picture for my assignment with Angie: "old," or at least, I have an idea and haven't taken it yet. Old is hard, especially when you feel so youthful yourself, though our house was built in 1890. But no, the house will not be my photograph. I will keep it a secret until it is revealed on Tuesday. Angie is currently on her way to China, which is such a beautiful and wonderful adventure, in my mind. I'm jealous, especially since my own job requires little travel (beyond the travel to the job and the stray field trip, though I haven't been on any, and the idea of going to another large city outside of our home state frightens me with so many teenagers and I also don't want to give up time spent relaxing on breaks... relaxing or recovering, who knows which).

So, for now, I will stick to the adventures that belong to me and to those I choose to keep in my life as a whole journey... to discovering the geography of here, to finding new places in a place we are learning how to call "home," over and over.









































(PS: If you think all these pictures dominating the blog are bad when all we have are dogs and much loved but less adventures cats... what do you think will happen when we have kids?! Don't tell me you don't want to see images of every single change, every moment, every expression...)