Yesterday I took Dusty T. and Polar Bear Yeti T. Dogs out to the slough for a walk. Walking is painful a lot of the time right now, not all the time, but a lot of the time. I’m allergic to aspirin and all its pals, so I’m kind of screwed in the “take an anti-inflammatory and shut up” category. Tylenol kind of works… ANY-hoo… Some days are better than others. I just figure we’ll go slow.
To my relief (and delight?) no one was there. Dusty “ran” FREEEEEEEE and I could lean on my trekking pole. Bear is learning to go slow and not to pull me. I realize if this is an injury I’m dealing with, she probably did it to me pulling suddenly on the leash. Still, I don’t blame her. She’s a dog.
We reached a bend in the trail and I stopped. Just then, six Sandhill cranes took flight about 100 yards away. I was thrilled. Then there were more. Through our little walk, I saw at least a dozen take flight and head south, too far away for us to have startled them, moved by some inscrutable Sandhill crane impulse to take flight. As they fly, they call out to the world and to each other, a joyous cacophony that makes my heart sing.
On our way home, I was watching a flock pass in front of my car, really pissing off the guy who was tailgating me. I pulled over, thinking, “Life is really fucking short, and sometimes it’s painful. Moments like this should be savored as long as possible. Where in hell do you need to go so badly that you have to tailgate me on a country road? What if you never see the cranes in flight again?”
If you have never heard them, I recommend going to this website where you can hear an excellent recording of most of their sounds. The sound that I’ve heard most often when they’re on the ground is strangely soothing.