heaven and hell
Woke up with horrendous poison oak yet again. I get it because I can't stay away from the beautiful place where I walk with the dog girls, and even though I stay on the paths, they dart in and out, tearing through underbrush, springing through fields. And then I pet them. And then I pay.
One of my eyes is almost closed with it, so I look like popeye once again. My arms are red and blotchy. I have great lotions that take care of the worst of it, herbal magic recommended by a friend. But not on the eyelid. I'll just have to suffer the itching and temporary disfigurement philosophically. I sometimes break down and get cortisone shots, but they don't seem to work all that well, and they're creepy, so I avoid them as long as possible.
The heaven part is that wildflowers are carpeting the fields, and this old former army land is such a balm for whatever inner life I can scrape together. The exquisite softness of the grasses that no camera can adequately capture, the wind playing on it, the colors, the quiet, and the constant vaudeville show that is Bosco-the-wonder-dog, hopping and scampering like a little bunny rabbit, digging for gophers, charging hither and thither hoping to catch something, anything.
The two older dogs trot along, sniffing, taking it all in. Mrs. Beasley constantly lags behind, because she sniffs ever-so-carefully and doesn't want to be hurried. And because she's a stubborn old queen-of-a-dog who likes to maintain her dignity. Occasionally she disappears for a while, and when she comes back, she's smeared some disgusting thing on herself, and she has her guilty sly look, and blinks a lot, and tries to act casual so I won't notice.
I saw a coyote today, but fortunately the dogs didn't spot it and it was smart enough to flee. They picked up its scent later, and searched the field furiously, rushing back and forth, but it was long gone.
Time to lotion up. The itching demons have overtaken me. Here are today's photos.
Just as I finished typing this I heard a noise outside and went to investigate. Great, another exciting Sunday night in the 'hood. Things like this are just the reason I need the nature walks so badly. It was a false alarm.