Wellington is always game for the outdoors. This dog is my muse. He is so effortlessly beautiful. Such elegance and grace in all that he does. He's taken to running over and greeting my neighbour when she gets home from work everyday and the other night he just staid over there and had tea or whatever he does with her and I forgot about him and eventually went to bed. Then at 11pm I hear this barking and it's him huddled on the porch wanting in.
Juniper was awake for most of the 3 hour jaunt. She stays silent in the chariot unless I stop for too long. She looks sleepy because she decided to wake up every 1.5 hours for some miowks ALL NIGHT LONG.
Which is why I look so ghastly tired. Sometimes I think I see a glimmer of Grace Under Fire in my photos. Strange.
I went barefoot on the way back. Just had the urge. I spent an entire week barefoot during frosh week in my fourth year at Trent. Helped kids move bar fridges into their dorms and brought them on tours of downtown Peterborough. What a fucking hippie I am sometimes. Anyway, the path from the cabin through the fields to the river is basically sand and it had warmed in the sun. Walking with such awareness of the texture and the temperature of the earth, how utterly Buddhist of me. haha. I hope the farmer finds my prints and gets a thrill from the thought of Pocahontas meandering through his back forty. Are toe rings really relics of the 90s? I think maybe I've had that one on since then haha.
Obligatory mountain shot.
(Shizzzzop talk: I figured out how to make my photos stretch to fit the page perfectly thanks to a blog called My Girl Thursday here! This is so exciting because I was never happy with how puny my photos looked and making them bigger just made them bleed into the sidebar. Yes, I am a techno weenie who doesn't know anything knows a bit about html.)
