Sense of place….

                                           

Run… 

 Walk… 

 Chat…

Just we two…

A long walk. A late afternoon possibly even early evening walk along River Road tracing the Ottauquechee River with sun glassed shielded eyes. Long sleeves required. Seasonable coolness. Late summer slipping into Fall. Nearly impossible to keep track of time as it has little import most days.  Hints of days shortening. The river winds through the Vermont landscape with continuous dancing strands of crystal prisms floating downstream.  Rising and falling. Ebb and flow.  Continual changes…

Struggling to mentally make sense of the happenings of the day in our increasingly divided country. I put one foot in front of the other, yet my head hangs low. The weight. I forget where I am as my mind drifts to the unpleasant and stressful news of the day. I remind myself to look up. The sky cobalt blue. The grass shades of rich and varied greens with the suggestion of Fall displayed in a few branches. Sense of place.

The soundless movement of the river coupled with the infrequent pattern of traffic allows quiet to seep in despite our occupying nature’s largest auditorium. Needing to steal some calm and sleep for that matter but grateful to settle for some relaxing moments. A potent thunderstorm had blown through just 24 hours earlier. Wind strong enough to employ our generator. The only evidence of the torrential rain was the wet earth underfoot.  Our dog Cub’s paws sinking into the mud making perfect imprints with each prance. His glistening white dog hair attracting and absorbing the rich dark soil. Living in the moment. Vestiges of summer.

Run…

Walk…

Chat…

Just we three…

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.”— Roger Caras

Author: Elizabeth Ricketson

A graduate of Providence College with a BA in English, Elizabeth Ricketson has always had a love of literature and the fine arts. Elizabeth’s essays focus on life experiences and life in Vermont.

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