All Things Being Equal

Sunday morning means a more than casual walk. The hounds knows it, I know it, my Sunday morning walking companion knows it. His hound not only knows it, but waits at the door.

On these walks we revert. Yesterday, we explored a couple of stone walls that seemed to stand at attention yet, an old garbage dump where I scored a scrap of rust I’d been seeking for some time, and the forest primeval where the hemlocks stand so tall you can’t see the top. Where it became necessary to see whether an elf lived in a very, very large old stump.

Then we jumped across the brook (our version of jumping, anyway), and brought the rusty trophy back to the car, all the while arguing over who would get to carry it. “You’re the curator of the historical society, he challenged, “you can’t be seen carrying a piece of iron junk out of the woods.” I laughed, ”just watch me.” He won.

We’ll walk again next week. If we’re alive and kicking, of course. In Holland we have a poetic way of saying that: “ice and weather being of service” — all things being equal. It remains to be seen how equal they will be.

Check out the photos — you can get the album to pop up by clicking on one of the thumbnails.  If your connection is poor, they may take a moment to fully load and get sharp.

4 thoughts on “All Things Being Equal

  1. Oh Pleun: I treasure our walks as do our hounds. We of course traverse the trails much more carefully than the hounds who bound over hill and dale. I have been wondering since Sunday if your “piece of iron junk” worked out according to your plan?
    Where will our next adventure take us River Road or perhaps a path we have not ventured before? Whatever I know you will find some interesting patch of nature to photograph, you always do.
    Looking forward

    1. Here’s to adventures! Buddy has a cut in one of his pads, I guess we noticed the glass a bit too late. But i have gotten him rubber booties to protect it from crap (and salt!) and he’s okay though he walks funny with the bootie. Don’t know whether he’ll be good to run and jump by Sunday, though. Well see.

  2. Ah.. to know what is essential, for us and our 4 legged friends. I am sure Fennie is alive and well in his 13th year because of his daily sniff walks. It is the highlight of his/our day even though the distance tolerated has diminished considerably, the joy has not.He sleeps most of the rest of the day but he reverts to puppyhood as he tracks the scent of the meandering fox everyday.Your photos are beautiful.
    thank you.

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