Overcast skies greet me and the crew.
It’s around 7:30 in the morning and we’re making our way up to our favorite overlook. It’s warmer than usual for this early in the day. I think I detect the smell of rain in the breeze. Spike and Bridget detect several scents, and I let them follow their noses, causing our route to become circuitous.
I’m not going to hurry us back. The coffee can wait. The weather isn’t going to stay this inviting. If Spike and Bridget get plenty of exercise today, they’ll be more agreeable to snoozing inside tomorrow.
We make it to the top and stand together, viewing the desert valley below.
No sign of any cattle this morning. The cowboy did a good job rounding them up. Scanning the hills and dales below, I see no movement at all, and it’s too early to watch the big, black birds floating on thermal air currents. The mountains recline like bold women, lifting and dropping veils of light across their bounteous forms.
I’m satisfied to view them from afar.
I have no desire to drive up mountainsides to scramble on rocks and to stop my heart by peering over cliffs. Maybe I’m getting old? I put that notion aside, recalling that I’ve never been the athletic, adventurous type.
On the walk back to our camp, I recognize a blessing.
Thank God I don’t have any signs of arthritis. Come to think of it, I don’t remember anyone in our family having to cope with that scourge. I’m aware of how easily my legs carry me across the uneven ground. Yes, what a blessing to be able to move about like this . . . in a place like this.
Bridget sees home and pulls on her leash.
I unhook them both and watch them race to the door.
I love the way Bridget’s tail spins like a propeller when she runs!
Our routine will continue. They’ll take a drink and I’ll put out their breakfast. While they eat, I’ll set up the percolator. I’ll open up my laptop to read comments. As I drink my coffee and type, Bridget and Spike will fall into a peaceful nap beside me.
And as usual, I’ll pause and gaze out the window, grateful for this moment, this day, my life.
As I finish the entry above, I hear something bumping up against the BLT. Cattle are all around us! They snoop around the tires. They peer in the windows. A black one checks out the charcoal grill. A white one starts messing around with the spare tire cover, so I stop taking photos and rap on the window. “Leave that alone! Go away!” They’re reluctant to leave — two start a game of head-butting — before finally plodding off down the lane.
Here’s a slideshow. I’m sorry the photo quality is poor due to the window screen and my hurry to capture the moment!
“The Ones That Got Away (from the cowboy).”
Spike and Bridget slept through it all!