I guess Buck could see the vertical line between my eyebrows, the hunched shoulders, my fist in the hollow of my cheek as I leaned over a half-full yellow legal pad, and know the hurdy-gurdy sentences in my head had congealed and congested like bad fried food and I was developing a full-blown case of the mulligrubs.
Danger. Warning. Danger. Warning.
Undaunted, he bearded the lioness in her den. "Come on, TwitchyB. Let's go to the woods."
He saw me make a face, like, "If I get interupted one more time. . ."
He called my bluff with a "come on" upturn of his chin and left my study to get his cap and a jacket.
I huffed and puffed and muttered under my breath, looked at the mess on my desk, looked at my watch, and went to the bedroom for a sweatshirt and my shoes.
There are two forces in the universe that can move even the most stubborn and hard-headed: being completely known and adored by the person one loves most in the world; and the spirit medicine of a walk in beautiful, familiar woods.
We will have our first frost of the season tonight, and, as you can see, even in Florida there is color in the woods. The temperature was about 55 this afternoon, with bright sunshine and a light wind. There was a doe grazing on the oats, wheat and rye out in the clearing. We walked down the road across from the clearing, with Maggie. The doe raised her head and looked at us, but she never shied off, nor did Maggie seem to be interested in giving chase.
We have finished supper, and I am playing at my desk like a happy child: an Italian Roast coffee-drinking, dark chocolate-eating child.