#86
Before the heat bakes the earth, before the sun, the white light of mid-day says “stay in”. When the air feels prickly like the spine of the cactus out front. Before coffee, before breakfast, before it all, there are the silent hellos of the dog walkers. A quiet bunch, a group who waves, leash in hand, a community dedicated to the animals we keep.
My calf muscles stretch, my ankles pop. My eyes adjust, not fully open. I hide behind sunglasses. An hour tour of the neighborhood. Paths I’ve walked all year, yet, always a house, a tree, a cactus I’ve never noticed.
The dogs, respecting the hour of the day, keep their barks at bay.
We pass Kip, Ellie, Felix. Each one greeted by smelling an ear or a rump. A simple hello, noting the cooler morning air.
Boring for some, grounding for me.