Against my better judgment at the time, I reluctantly agreed tha,t given my options, the least troublesome thing to do was to return to the marsh with the dog for his daily 15 minute walk. As part of his continued rest and rehab, this is the total time he is allowed to walk, even on the leash, as he gradually builds up his time. But given the confinement of summer, he is so happy to walk anywhere, to see any part of his old world that, until further notice, we’re letting him jump just a little into the car’s back seat. Thus we drove off yesterday morning, my first trip back to the fields with my field dog since April.
Golden sun reflected off the burnished grasses under (finally) a clear, dry sky. The tide was coming in but the path was still passable as we headed into the little field and up its footpath. We both savored the feel of the wind and the chance to see, once again, the beauty lying here up the road from our normal tasks. “Only 15 minutes” was ample time to drink in the refreshment and the larger perspective.
Minutes and mercies seem to populate our days now. I wrote about how when car battery was dying, I drove it to Sears and as I cruised into the bay, it died totally. Last week, as our mechanic began service on the other car, its battery died in his bay. Other things seem to happen in little moments: you find the lost credit card in the bottom of the “To File” basket having checked there on a hunch. Someone else in the family is able to deliver a lunch left on the counter. By a fluke, the soccer gear lands in the clean laundry basket, washed in time for the next game tomorrow even though several baskets are piled up. There in the attic lies an available carry-on bag needed for the very next morning. Mercies and minutes ease our days and there, on the marsh, the gift it is and others we receive cause thanks to ride to the back of my eyelids as I soak in the power, the beauty of this view, an old friend.