I watched out the door as the snow continued to fall.  Each flake kissed the ground softly. My breath frosted the pane, softening the edges of my world.

Everything, as far as I could see, was draped in snow.  It was hard to distinguish the ground from the sky; the horizon blurred into a vast white nothingness.

Winter had gone on for months now.  The cold was settling into our bones. The excitement we felt at winter’s first snow had log ago evaporated and spring felt far away.

The night was silent, as though waiting for nature to speak; to whisper the joy and beauty of winter, for we had forgotten.

Keep warm,

Jack

All around me leaves fall.

As I watch, I imagine the trees shrugging off the coats they had so diligently grown in the spring and worn all summer.

I knew the woods surrounding my home would soon be filled with the skeletal version of their once bountiful selves.  With all the leaves on the ground, the upcoming winter wind would easily sweep through the empty branches.  And the snow would fall to the base of the trees.  All winter their bare branches would reach up to the grey skies, on outright plea for spring.

The cold winds would come soon enough. And I would deal with winter when winter came.

For now, I allow the swirl of the falling leaves to lull me into a pleasant afternoon fantasy.

Today I will enjoy today.

Tally ho,

Jack

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We ended our walk, as was our habit,  at the gazebo.  I hopped up on the bench and she sat on the floor near me.  Our heads were close.

At first, our gazed traversed the same landscape. When suddenly she looked the other way, her attention focused on something which I  found little interest.

That I think is one of the characteristics that make us so unique.  That which captures our focus.

And to which we give time.

And emotion.

That which makes us, individually us.

Carpe Diem,

Jack

Have you ever felt the need to run away from the lens of a camera, off the page and into nature?  Into a  world that is not limited by parameters of human expectation? Where the sway of the grass tickles and the symphony of insects delights?

Until next time,

Jack

Sometimes I wonder if humans wished they had a tail to wag when they are happy.

Just a simple thought really. But I do wonder every time I am exuberant. (Now there is a word that captures the essence of joy and contentment combined in a single moment of gloriousness.)

Do adult humans tamper their excitement, playoff emotional events of significance as of little consequence,  for fear of looking foolish?

If only they had a tail.

If only.

Carpe Diem,

Jack

By late afternoon the skies were shrouded in ominous grey clouds. The storm front was easily visible and creeping slowly toward us.

My human had rushed about here and there, shutting windows, in the event the swollen clouds released the rain before our return from our walk.

At the park, I stood calm against the impending storm.  I could smell the rain in the air.  The scent of ozone swirled around.

For me, there is something almost magical right before the clouds weep, an anticipation of sorts. Like you knew this tremendous energy was about to be released and you wanted to absorb just a slice. To be a little bit wild and unpredictable.

In that moment you could get a glimpse of, not how life was, but how passionately fierce it could be.

Let’s set fire to the rain,

Jack