Another warm (-5), cloudy day that sings to me of March. I crunch along the trail preoccupied with the introduction to my book which I was writing this morning.
I remember that these walks are an exercise in paying attention. I look at the little brown birch seeds scattered over the snow. Some of snow caps have blown off the posts. The blue park outhouse is silent and snowbound.
I retreat into thoughts about a story I want to publish on northern writers.
When I come to, I am further down the trail. Princess trots ahead with purpose, her tail curled high. She crisscrosses the trail sniffing, then peeing, then sniffing somewhere else. She acts like it’s important business and I think she ought to have a briefcase. I wonder what it’s like to see the world through your nose and never doubt the meaning of what you’re doing.
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