Dear God:Today, I am thankful for a post-rainstorm walk in the park.
Any man that walks the mead
In bud, or blade,
or bloom, may find
A meaning suited to his mind.
~Alfred Tennyson
It's a cold and rainy day. Feels like November. The calendar says "August" and "summer," but the weather defies this logic. T, our chocolate Lab, is restless with cabin fever. As soon as the rain stops, I don a warm jacket and take him to the park.
My legs are a bit stiff so I stretch for a few minutes on the front porch before we leave our homestead. The damp, cool air invigorates me. I take another deep breath. Yes, it's good to be out and about.
The park's turf is green but soggy. Earthworms dot the sidewalk. I look for weeds near the park entrance - the invaders are easier to pull up from rain-softened earth.
One delightful surprise - a very large bird with a huge wingspan and long beak flies over the park before alighting on a nearby berm. It's not a goose, hawk or eagle. I think it's a crane, the first I've ever seen in our neighborhood.
T splashes in a puddle and pulls me towards a tall pine tree - must be a good sniff somewhere. I pick up a few pieces of trash and snip one more thistle plant. As the wind picks up ever so slightly, I shiver and tell T it's time to go home. For once, he agrees.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Photo: Bee plant with seed pods (backyard garden)
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