is Beau: bounding and
one brass concatenation
of tongue and tail,
too big, wild,
Mark Doty from “Atlantis“
I’m sitting on the edge of Crystal Lake, watching the new fall colors reflected in the water, waiting calmly for a hurricane to come through, the first Maine has seen in 17 years.
Angel, who is part coyote and has one brown eye, one blue, and one half-missing ear, brought me gently out of sleep by jumping over me onto the bed. Rebel, a small hound, curled in her dog bed by my armchair while I read. Raven, a husky who chose her own name, perking up as the word “Raven” was read from a book, watches quietly out the window for the storm to approach. And last week, Honey Dog, blind and deaf and moving stiffly with age, moved contentedly in her space, exploring what she still could, following scent trails across the ground until the finite length of her leash stopped her, at which point, she would simply move in a different direction.
In a short time, I’ll go back into the world of work and schedules, planning for the future. But today, I’m grateful just to sit with the dogs, waiting with acceptance for whatever it is that’s about to move through. And Angel, who climbs up to put her head in my lap, is clearly not yet ready for me to go.