Socialization

Walking a dog, even someone else's dog, every morning has surprising benefits, chief among them socialization.

The kindness of a neighbor and her dog Panda eases Gracie into new territory: friendship with a previously unfamiliar canine. Yesterday, after previously barking at the same pair several times over the course of different days, we happened upon Panda and her human on our way to the lake. We were invited to walk along beside, at some distance, and Gracie was allowed to sniff Panda's markings, and Panda to sniff Gracie's. After an enthusiastically boisterous beginning, Gracie settled into a companionable stroll. Today, when we met them on their way home and on our way out, Panda and Gracie shared a lovely moment of rest while the humans chatted.

A bit later, as we crossed a Lake Cheston bridge, we encountered two students taking advantage of their late first class (11 AM), soaking in the sun and blue sky and strangely (uncomfortably so) warm weather. Instead of barking at the seated young women, as has been her wont in the past on encountering unknown people, Gracie wagged and wiggled and they giggled and stroked her and took cell photos. Then, about halfway to the dam, Gracie spotted her first slider (my first slider of the year) sunning on the fallen tree where they often are. Instead of charging full-out toward it, Gracie assumed a position and stared a good long time. Still later, at the dam, as a gaggle of children and parents approached, Gracie stopped, accepted their smiles, and then moved on.

Even the players at the baseball field were just other points of interest, for us both, and we headed home feeling happy to have made such good relaxed acquaintance with those along our way.

A Good Day at the Waterpark

escorted by a Red Velvet Ant

to the lake, where I photographed a Common Whitetail

(only to discover that I also photographed a butterfly)

watched a slider floating atop a log like a cowboy loping along on a horse

all the while taking in the view

and then I saw the water between me and beach

and the water from the wooded trail

and the water from the last footbridge

before returning home to watch this

Sun Worship

Despite having had melanoma many years ago, I freely admit that I worship the sun.

Not in the way I did as a stupid teenager, lying on a towel atop an asphalt driveway, after having slathered myself in baby oil. 

But in a respectful way, wandering (in long pants, long socks over the pants, long-sleeved man's shirt, wind jacket as much for the pockets as any other reason, hat) somewhere, anywhere beautiful things can be found. 

Like these:

slider

water and algae

children at Lake Cheston

crocus

marmalade cat.

Everyone needs some sun. 

Of Sliders and ***t

I.
Two days in the 60s, with full sun, and all kinds come out to play. 

II.
Watching this slider at the lake this morning, I thought, I know just how he (or she) feels. How good it is to stretch the neck, nose up toward the blue sky, eyes at half mast, letting the good heat soothe winter meat.

III.
The riders and their mounts had been out, too, though earlier than I. They left their calling cards: piles of excrement on the beach and the bank opposite, hoof marks gouged into red mud and damp sand. 

These sun-worshipers I do not understand. Oh, riding I get, and riding in beautiful weather I get. But why they think only of themselves by coming where they are not welcome (indeed where they are not permitted) and leaving their ***t for others to cope with and clean up is beyond me.

IV.
When it comes to sliders and riders who slide on their responsibilities, I'll take the first any day. He or she is my kind of animal.