dog walk
A dog walk rarely belongs to the middle of the day.
It happens at the edges.
Early, when the street is quieter than it will be later.
Or at the end, when pockets are already being emptied of keys.
The route is familiar.
The pace is not decided by you.
There’s time to notice small things -
damp ground, softened air, the sound of something moving just out of sight.
Nothing is accomplished.
You come back the way you went.
The day feels slightly different afterwards,
even though nothing has changed.
explore: his memory lives in our dog walk candle
