Looking at last year’s photos, it’s impossible not to think about how much has changed. The nights enjoying the lights, music and restaurants along Main Street have been replaced with wandering in the morning light as we continue our mission of creating the first snowy paw prints of the day.
Dear Santa, my name is Harper and, no matter what anyone else tells you, I have been very good this year. All I want for Christmas is a few early Christmas presents, endless walks, my favorite snacks and for you to take Baby Yoda as a gift when you leave.
The colors have faded, the leaves have fallen, and boaters have taken their last sunrise jaunt. While some hunker down and transition to the next season, there are those who will resist the inevitable transition to the cold lonely days of winter lost in thoughts of blue promising brighter days.
Harper was intrigued by the mystical door that offered a portal into a world where obstacles were easily breached and fairies lived in the forest offering magical wishes of days filled with peaceful moments of hope and endless fabulous football games like Notre Dame’s amazing upset overtime victory over #1Clemson.
The chilly early mornings in the park now require a vest and gloves as we are welcomed in the solitude along the pond by only the company of a few remaining red-winged blackbirds and sounds of leaves rustling under Harper’s paws as she sets a steady pace along the paths.
Reflecting and reinventing during the pandemic is popular, but I understand resisting joining the crowd. I’m not in the mood for more change or reflection, although I’ve been wondering if I had been assigned the saxophone instead of the clarinet in band how different life would’ve been playing those gigs.
Meandering through the days, it feels we’re very slowly inching towards Election Day. Needing distractions, this week’s obsessions were too many Kettle potato chips while binge-watching travel adventures, Gangs of London and Tehran, charming bird feeders, fall color, an enjoyable novel and wine shoppe expedition searching for autumnal hard ciders.
Something to appreciate in middle age is short cuts to enjoyment and clicking “Because You Watched” or “If You Like” always leads to great entertainment. After watching an episode of Long Way Up there’s time to reminisce about thrilling motorcycle trips before the related button takes you on another Ride.
Turning the corner into October I thought the weekly theme would transition to fall colors, Halloween decorations and pumpkins, never imagining that the actual horror show would be the first presidential debate. We were making strides calming Harper’s nerves with peaceful scenes, but now we’re both suffering from sensory overload.
I’m capable of 29 point rants about things I know and believe, but with a word count I’m limited on sharing why lobster rolls are the perfect end of summer celebration, 29 foods amazingly delicious smothered in jam and why “You Are Here” maps no longer help me recognize the surrounding world.