Just Walkin' the Dog 3

Threads of fog eddied and swirled around us on our walk this morning, curling plumes like smoke in the lamplight, silver wraiths patting my face with damp, light fingers.  We didn't see another creature - not a person, a deer, or even a rabbit - and it was all too easy to imagine that we were the only living souls walking primordial earth . . . except for the cement under our feet, of course.  But my fertile imagination easily dismisses such mundane facts of life in favor of pretending we are making our way through virgin forest, pine needles soft beneath my moccasins (instead of new-cut lawn under sneakers), following the sound of rushing water (the river I can't really hear because it's 5 blocks away), faithful grey wolf at my side (yeah, I know - that's a stretch). . .

Then I have to shake it loose, bend down to grab a baggied handful of warm poop, and slowly come back to Monday morning and the looming reality that is an office cube for the rest of the day.  Bah.  But a girl can dream . . . :-)