Me and Big Dog went walking. We moved ourselves from behind the desk (him taking up most of the floor behind me) and hit the rails to trails where we crossed three bridges, past Tennessee streams, and inlets along the Cumberland River. First I’m checking emails as I walk and responding, earphones in, music jamming. But in a little while, the more I take in the trees and sky, the fact that I can hear the water running over those rocks in spite of what’s rocking in my head, I catch myself. I slow down, take the earphones, out of my ears, shove the palm in my pocket (yes I’m holding out till the Iphone makes it to Verizon) and soak up a little of the moment. Me. Big Dog. Blue Sky.
It amazes me always how fast it slips by, this thing we call time, this stuff we call life, if I let it. In all my business of serving life and not living it.
Breathe. Good life in. Busy life out.
It takes a little getting used to this shifting gears. Big dog, he’s always living in the moment. Hugs. Treats. Hiding from the thunder . Pausing to listen to a stranger’s story. Pausing to stare at the clouds. Literally, pausing to catch our breath before we push on.
Then we came home as the day grew darker, and how shall I say this, pockets of sunset came busting through the clouds. I stood there thinking, If only I had an iphone I’d take a picture and I twitter this. But we did no such thing. We just stood there staring for a really, long time.